A Stitch in Time
by Queen of the Northern Lights
Summary: A brief moment is all it takes to change the course of history. When a split second decision sends ripples that threaten to drown the magical world, Hermione must find the courage to carry on when all hope is lost. With her friends gone, Hermione must rely on unlikely allies to right the wrongs of her past. Hermione X Regulus. Multiple pairings. Time travel AU. Complete.
1. Chapter 1: Trapped

Author's note: This story begins during the scene when Hermione is being tortured for information by Bellatrix in the Malfoy family manor. Please read, review, and favorite if you enjoy it. I will do my best to have the whole story up by the end of 2019.

Trigger warning: This story contains descriptions of violent and graphic content that may that may trigger those who suffer from trauma. Reader discretion is advised.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or story elements copyrighted by J.K. Rowling. It's her sandbox, I'm just playing in it.

***** **Chapter 1: Trapped** *****

The screams and agonized cries still echoed around the polished marble of the Malfoy Manor ballroom as Hermione's eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body went limp. Bellatrix flicked her wand with disgust at the twitching girl, who went sliding across the marble floors leaving a bloody trail. "Take the mudblood, Fenrir. I am finished with it." She turned to Pettigrew, snarling. "Bring me Potter."

The nervous man nodded before scurrying off down the stairs where frantic, muffled shouts of "Hermione!" could still be heard.

Hermione blinked, trying to focus through tears as a hand with long, ragged fingernails dragged her from the room by her hair. Agony coursed through her as a lingering aftershock of convulsions swept over her. "No…" she whispered feverishly as the face of the werewolf swam before her. He tossed her into a corner of a large stately room lined with bookshelves and dusty volumes.

His hands were on her, ripping at her jumper. He didn't even bother to use his wand. Instead he delighted in her terror as his fingernails bit into skin. Irritated with her attempts to scream, he shoved one hand over her mouth as the other ripped the neckline of her jumper and slid down her chest, pawing at her.

She kicked out at him and was rewarded with a sickening growl and the scent of hot, bloody breath on her neck.

"Do it again and I'll bite you before I've had my fun with you." To drive his point home he yanked up her wrist, licking at the blood dripping from the word 'mudblood' carved into her arm.

She saw it then, as he leaned over her and the flap of his jacket fell open: a wand handle sticking out of an inside pocket. Another convulsion passed through her that left her twitching, her head throbbing painfully as Greyback shoved her roughly into the wooden panel behind her head. His hand was on her throat, biting his fingernails into her skin. His hands gripped her shirt at the neckline and ripped the fabric. Hermione lunged. Grabbing the wand she pointed it at the werewolf. He collapsed on top of her before she could even think of a spell. Crushed under his stinking weight, she struggled to breathe. Then she felt relief as air filled her lungs and the weight of his body was levitated off of her.

To her astonishment she heard mild cursing as a figure with white blond hair approached her, stooping down. Draco Malfoy's face swam in front of her vision. She pointed the stolen wand at him, her hand shaking.

His eyes narrowed. His own wand hung at his side, clenched tightly. "I'm trying to help you, Granger! There isn't any more time. He's here!" The color had drained from his face. He clutched at his left forearm and hissed. Before she had time to think Greyback groaned and Draco sent another stunning spell at him before ducking down and pulling Hermione up on her feet. "We have to hurry. There isn't much time now."

Her body was heavy and the twitching made it difficult for her to control her body's movements. Draco didn't waste any time half-carrying her over to a bookshelf in the corner: one hand on her hip and the other with her arm around his shoulder. They were moving before she could get her feet beneath her. Her head drooped weakly as he pulled out a green book and a secret door opened in the bookshelves.

Hurrying, they fled down a set of narrow stone steps. Shattering glass and ricocheting spells could be heard along with screams and cries they both recognized.

"We have to keep going. We can't help them now," he insisted as she tried to pull back at the sounds above them.

"But Harry, Ron-"

"Harry's dead. Granger, there's no time! If you want to stay alive, we have to hurry." His own voice was frantic as he carried her down the stairs. With his wand he tapped a mirror on a wall and it melted and widened, like a metallic pool. Draco shoved her through before she had time to think.

A room blossomed beyond the portal, filled with strange and bizarre relics that gave off a dark and sinister presence. Looming statues, strange artifacts on pedestals, and a bloodstained altar passed them by as they hurried to a large black cabinet at the end of one of the rows. Hermione recognized it a split second before Draco was pushing her inside of it.

A strange silence fell over them as the door shut firmly in place, leaving them alone in the dark. She hadn't felt the tears running down her face until that moment in the silence as Draco's labored breathing filled the quiet of the cabinet along with her gentle sobs.

"There's no time for that, Granger." Yet despite the coldness of his tone, she felt his hand tighten around her own.

There was a sudden vacuum-like sensation and she felt herself being pulled in all directions at once and then the feeling was gone in an instant.

Draco cracked the cabinet door open and poked his wand out before peering to see if the coast was clear. Once he deemed it safe he stepped out, his hand still holding tightly to Hermione's. And then he turned around and sent a spell Hermione didn't recognize at the cabinet. It shuddered and then sagged as splintering cracks split across the wood. "There. No one should be able to follow us through now."

And then, looking around at the mountains of junk Hermione realized where they were: the Room of Requirement.

"Can they get into this room?" Hermione asked in a frantic whisper.

"I don't think so. If there's someone inside they shouldn't be able to get in. So as long as we stay in here we should be okay."

"But Harry told me that Trelawney got in last year when she tried to hide-"

"Okay! So it's not perfect, but I did manage to hide the Vanishing Cabinet in here for practically all of last year and right now it's the best I can do."

In the panicked silence that followed the two of them stared at each other in nervous anticipation, listening for the sound of a door flying open or the crack of apparition. But nothing came and the silence stretched on.

Hermione's legs, which had been shaky the whole time, finally collapsed under her. "We have to find a way to go back…" she began.

Draco cut her off. "We can't go back, Granger! Didn't you hear me?! I saw the Dark Lord kill Potter. I saw it with my own eyes."

"But Ron and Dean…"

"If they're still alive, which I highly doubt, then they're still back there with a house full of Death Eaters and the Dark Lord now! Don't you get it? Hermione, it's over. Okay? It's bloody over."

Her eyes swam with tears and she broke down in sobs, only to realize she wasn't alone. Draco Malfoy sunk onto a nearby stool and buried his head in his hands, heaving and sobbing. And then it wasn't sadness, but anger and rage boiling up inside her. "What right do you have to be so upset?! It's not like you cared! It's not like you cared about any of us! You're on his side!"

Looking up from his hands, his tear-streaked face snarling, he jabbed his finger at the cabinet. "His side? _His side?_ You think I still want to be on _his_ side? After everything he's done to me and my family? And here I thought you were the smart one." He shook his head in disgust and gestured to himself. "I'm a Death Eater because my father was a Death Eater. Because my father failed him and it was join or die. So excuse me for not martyring myself for the cause, but I chose to save my own neck. You think it was easy for me? You think I wanted _any_ of it? My friends and family are in just as much danger as you and yours, Hermione! He lives in my home, he took my father's wand and tortured him! What do you think he's going to do to my parents now that I've saved your life and run off? Think it's going to be a nice quiet little chat? Hm? I'll be lucky if I have any family left to go back to. He's probably torturing them right now. All because I saved _you_!"

She flinched as he hurled the words at her, fresh tears flowing down his cheeks. "Why did you save me?"

He blinked and sniffed loudly, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "What?" he spat.

"Why did you save me?" she repeated.

He groaned, rolling his head in his hands. He seemed to think on it for a while before he spoke. "I don't know. Lots of reasons I suppose. Because I never wanted any of this to happen in the first place. Because I've been looking for an escape since I joined. Because I recognized your face the moment you entered my home and knew it was over."

"You lied," Hermione cut in and he looked up at her, a quizzical expression on her face that he had seen so often in classes long since past that it was almost comforting to see it again. It was the same furrow-browed expression she got when she was working on an assignment and the explanation didn't quite make sense to her. "You lied when we were brought in. Harry's face was swollen by my jinx, but you've known him for years. Same with me and Ron, and even Dean. But when they asked you if you recognized us you lied. Why? If you knew it was over, why lie?"

Once again his head sunk onto his clenched fists. "Because I hoped, somehow, that you and your big brain would manage to find a way out. Potter was always good at being lucky, wasn't he?" Even now he couldn't keep the malice from his voice and Hermione cringed. "It didn't matter. My dear aunt recognized you. And-" he stopped, his eyes flicking down to the still bleeding cut on her wrist. Cursing himself, he swept over to her and pulled back her sleeve. When he saw the word carved there he cursed again and pulled out his wand.

"No, I can-" Hermione reached towards her shoe where the bottle of dittany was still inside her beaded bag.

But he pointed his wand at the wound and the skin slowly stitched itself back together as he muttered under his breath.

"How...?"

"I made a point to learn after my run-in with Potter last year." He pulled up the sleeve of his right arm and showed her the pale scars. Hermione felt her stomach turn over at the sight, remembering how horrified she had been when she had heard what had happened when Harry used that spell Snape had created. She had warned him a hundred times at least not to go about trusting the notes in the book. And as usual Harry hadn't listened. And as usual she had been right, much to her displeasure.

"Honestly, six years at this bloody school and they never thought to teach us basic healing spells."

Hermione wanted to smile at the joke, but couldn't bring herself to.

Draco sat back on his heels and asked, "Did Greyback bite you?"

She shook her head, a small part of her relieved.

His lips parted to ask the second question, but he couldn't bring himself to form the words and ask it. She was obviously hurt elsewhere. Draco looked at the torn jumper and the scratches over her heart and said nothing. "I'll look and see if I can find anything useful," he managed and he stood and walked down the rows of junk, giving them both the privacy they needed to deal with the damage.

Draco came back a half hour later, a sack slung over his back. She didn't comment on his swollen, bloodshot eyes. "It's not much, but I found some clothes and robes. Not sure if they'll fit well, but it's better than nothing. This room can be freezing sometimes." He handed her the sack and pulled a box out from a nearby wardrobe.

"I didn't know that the Room of Requirement could make food. Isn't food one of the-"

"-Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law? Yeah, it is. And no, the room doesn't provide food. But you're forgetting that I spent a great deal of time here last year. I kept a fairly healthy store of food so I could work without interruption." He pulled out a box of chocolate cauldrons and offered it to her.

As she took a bite, she felt the tiniest bit of warmth flow through her. "When we were on the run, I packed nearly everything except food. I spent weeks scouring over books and supplies, but I never even thought to pack a decent supply of food." Hermione's throat went dry at the memory of those painful nights without food and her friends' misery.

Draco chuckled as he picked up a cauldron cake. "Leave it to the cleverest witch in our year to forget the basic necessities for a life on the run."

With a mocking scowl she rolled her eyes and turned to the heap of clothing next to her, picking through it and holding each item up to see if it might fit her. As Draco busied himself by sifting through the crates of food he still had, Hermione rose and gathered a few of the items in her hands to try on far, far out of sight.

When she came back she was wearing a thick wool jumper from her beaded bag and a warm traveling cloak that Draco had found. It was a bit large on her, but in the chill of the stone castle walls she was glad for its warmth, even if the style was a bit dated.

"I still don't quite understand you," she admitted as she took another cauldron cake and sat across from him. Draco continued to sort out the food in the crates, ignoring her comment. "Why did you save me?"

"Haven't we been over this already?"

Frowning, she crossed her arms. "But, it's just that I thought you _hated_ me. At school you were always horrible to me. Why would you sacrifice for me?"

He set down a tin of food and sighed. "I didn't hate you, Granger. I envied you. You were brilliant even though you were muggleborn. Do you know what it's like to have to listen to your parents scorn you because a mu-" he caught himself and said, "-muggleborn out performed you in every subject? Besides, I've heard what Greyback has done to other women. I couldn't let him do that. Especially not to you."

There was silence as he resumed counting tins, carefully avoiding her eyes.

Hermione couldn't quite wrap her head around it all. She knew she should be feeling pain, anxiety, fear, anger, hatred, terror, denial and grief after everything she had gone through that day, but now it was as if all the mixture of emotions within her had combined and overwhelmed her system, leaving her numb and frozen. Without the emotions, there was only logic and questions she needed to have answered. "Why didn't you try to help Harry escape instead?"

His knuckles were white as he set down another package of cauldron cakes. "Because," he hissed again, gritting his teeth, "I might be a match for Greyback, but I am not a match for the Dark Lord or my aunt and a bunch of other Death Eaters. I am one man, Hermione. I did not have any help as you may recall. I did what I could. And I saved you."

"But Harry is more important than me…"

"No, he wasn't." Grey, cold eyes stared hard at her.

She reeled at his harsh tone.

"Harry Potter was not more important than you. I don't care about whatever the ministry or some prophecy says. Potter was not better than the rest of us. Don't believe everything Dumbledore told you. How many times would Potter have been dead if not for you? Hm? I'm guessing he's wracked up quite a large debt to you over the years."

Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot and she avoided his gaze. She didn't say anything after that.

The fake windows showed a dark night sky outside before long and Draco pulled out a small cot and set it up next to her before dropping onto a pile of cushions and leaning his head back until his bloodshot eyes finally closed and he drifted off to sleep.

The anxious tension in the air had long since dissipated and Hermione watched Draco suspiciously, throwing up a few wards to wake her if anything should happen. A small part of her wondered if this was all a trap. Was he just playing the hero and using her to try to get information out about what she, Harry, and Ron had been up to? Even as he slept he kept his wand in his hand clutched near his chest, although his body had relaxed somewhat. Still, a furrow remained in his brow and every so often he would twitch violently, never waking.

Hermione felt her own eyelids begin to droop and she pulled the traveling cloak up over herself as she settled down on the cot. She was afraid to fall asleep, but sleep came for her anyway.

She woke up to the sound of screaming. The wand she had stolen from Greyback was pointing at a figure crouching next to her. When Draco's face came into focus the events of the previous day came back to her. "Are you awake now?" Draco frowned, his hand still on her shoulder.

"I heard screaming!"

"Yeah, it was you. You were the one screaming, Granger. Now, I don't know everything about this room, like whether or not it's soundproof, so do try to keep it down." He held out a cauldron cake and she took it, turning it over in her hands. With a sigh he stood and then settled back on his cushions.

Holding the cauldron cake in her hands, Hermione felt tears pricking at her eyes. Willing herself not to cry and appear weak in front of Malfoy, she sat up and opened the package.

As if reading her thoughts, Draco said, "It's nothing to feel ashamed of, Granger. This is war. Screaming nightmares are part of the deal." He played with a frayed hole in the blanket he had been using as he said it.

"Do you have nightmares?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, considering a sarcastic response, but once he saw the expression on her pale face he decided against it. "Of course I do." He pulled at the frayed threads even though it widened the hole.

"What do you have nightmares about?" she asked in barely a whisper. After her screaming she felt like she shouldn't say anything more. It was still dark outside from the looks of things and Draco had performed a spell she recognized: a tiny blue ball of flame fluttered in cracked jar between them. Picking at the frayed threads he said, "Different things. Memories sometimes, of him or another of the Death Eaters. I see him torturing my dad, making me and my mother watch as he used the cruciatus curse. Or getting the dark mark. But other times it isn't so literal. Sometimes it's more of a feeling than a memory. There's this one where I'm being chased by a pack of wolves through a village and no matter how far I run or which way I turn I trip and fall into a pit and they attack me. Even though its not real, that fear and terror…is," he trailed off, shaking his head. "You're not the only one with screaming nightmares in this room. Trust me."

"I'm sorry," she said, taking a tiny bite of the cauldron cake. "That sounds awful."

He looked at her then, unflinching, with piercing eyes and a furrowed brow. "I should be the one that's sorry, Granger. It's my family and my lot that have put you through hell. So don't apologize." Dropping his attention back to the blanket in his lap he asked, "Do you want to talk about your nightmare?"

She chewed the cauldron cake slowly, mulling over whether or not she wanted to talk to Draco about this. She wasn't willing to trust him yet. On the other hand, she was fairly certain that he was telling her the truth. She had a feeling she was likely the first person he had been able to confide in since he became a Death Eater. Or perhaps even before that. Crabbe and Goyle couldn't have been the most emotionally supportive friends. Slytherins weren't known for their affectionate, caring ways.

"It was Bellatrix," she admitted, touching the red scars on her arms. "She was hurting me and I kept trying to crawl away, but each time I felt myself reaching out to wake up it was like the nightmare pulled me back under. It felt so real," she shivered and pulled the blanket around herself as hot tears fell down her cheeks and she choked on her sobs.

Draco hesitated, unsure what comfort he could offer her that wasn't a blatant lie. In the end he rose and put the extra blanket around her before sitting on the stool he had occupied earlier. "There's nothing I can give you for the nightmares. But I'll stay up and take the first watch. How does that sound? And I'll wake you if you seem to be having another nightmare." He pulled off a dusty magazine about quidditch from several decades ago off a nearby stack and began flipping through it.

Despite her apprehension, Hermione felt her weary body calling her back into slumber and she closed her eyes once more.

It didn't take long before she was thrashing around in her sleep again.

Draco woke her each time and after the the third time of receiving a wand at his throat he gave an exasperated sigh. "Really, Granger? Every time?"

After that she decided to stay awake and told Draco he could sleep. Begrudgingly, he agreed and pulled the old blanket over himself.


	2. Chapter 2: Denial and Acceptance

**Chapter 2: Denial and Acceptance**

Draco awoke to the sound of something being knocked over and immediately sprang to his feet, wand drawn and ready for a fight. Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Keeping close to the stacks, he hurried in the direction of the sound. "Shit! Hermione! Hermione, where are you?!" When he heard no response he swore again and started sprinting down the rows towards the sound. He heard movement up ahead and lit his wand, casting light around the area. "Whoever you are, you better let her go or I swear on my father's name I will-" but when he rounded the corner where the noise had come from all he saw was a toppled pile of glass bottles and books. Raising his wand in front of him, his eyes probed the darkness as he muttered a Hominum Revelio charm. There was only one other person in the room besides himself.

With a heavy sigh that was more of a groan he lowered his wand and said, "Granger are you under Potter's invisibility cloak?" When there was no response he lifted his wand again. "If you're not Granger I'm going to start firing off hexes."

A sound came from his left and he pivoted, wand ready, a jinx on his tongue, only to see Hermione appear as she pulled off the invisibility cloak. "Bloody hell, Granger. What was that all about?"

Her face was red and angry, with tear-stained blotches. "I'm getting the hell out of this room and I'm going to go help save Harry and Ron and my friends!" she said through gritted teeth, raising Greyback's wand at him. "Now tell me how to get out."

"Granger," he said quietly, a surprising softness in his voice. "They're gone. You can't help them now."

"Shut up! I'm not going to believe any more of your lies, Malfoy. I'm going to go help save my friends now tell me how to get out of here." She held her wand aimed at his nose and even as her hand shook Draco pocketed his own wand.

"I wasn't lying, Granger. You can look, if you must, but I warn you not to. You don't want to see it." And he lowered both his hands and looked into her eyes, and she realized what he was giving her permission to do.

She had never used the spell before, but had been practicing occlumency herself ever since Voldemort had tricked them into the Department of Mysteries two years ago. She understood the theory. Staring into the grey eyes before her, she pointed her wand and said, _"Legilimens!"_ She felt the connection instantly take effect, as if her mind was sending out tendrils into Draco's like eager tentacles. But she did not face resistance when she looked. Flashes of memory came to her, as if pulled from the shelves of the restricted section and placed in front of her to browse at her leisure.

Mere moments was all it took before she wrenched herself away, throwing the wand in her hand at the ground and staring at Draco in abject horror. Then her legs gave out from under her and she crumpled to the floor, her head in her hands, trembling all over as images of the bloody and still bodies of her friends filled her head. She cried until she gagged and retched, splattering the floor with sick before it was vanished away. She hadn't even realized that Draco had held her hair back until some time later when she had cried for hours in a ball on the floor, the invisibility cloak pulled up over her shoulders in an attempt to surround herself with good memories of her friends.

"This can't be real," she said numbly, when dawn broke through the magical windows of the room.

"Here," he said, nudging a cup of tea into her hand.

Steam billowed from the cup. There was no cream or sugar, but the warm drink was comforting in the fact that even now there was still something as normal as a cup of tea. She watched as Draco blew on his own cup before taking a sip. He looked as wretched as she felt and she suspected he too was suffering from reliving the memories of her friend's deaths. She stared down at the cup of tea in her hands once more. "Why are you doing this?" she asked weakly.

"Making tea? Because it's what my mum does when someone needs comforting."

"No, I mean. Why are you being so nice to me?"

He stared down at his own tea cup, rubbing at a chip with his thumb. When he looked up at her, he looked weary beyond his years, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than usual. "Haven't we both suffered enough already? Maybe I'm just tired of it, Granger." He sipped his tea and rubbed his eyes.

"Hermione."

"What?" he said, looking up from his tea.

She had a peculiar expression on her face, like she was trying to translate ancient runes in her head. "You called me by my given name before. Earlier, you called me Hermione when you saw that I had gone. I heard you shouting it. And previously right after we got into this room, you called me Hermione again when you were shouting. But then, when you're not riled up, you call me Granger. You've always called me Granger at school. Or mudblood."

He cringed at the word and his eyes flicked to her wrist and then away, ashamed. "I should never have called you that," he muttered quietly.

"So why the sudden change of heart? When did I become Hermione?"

He said nothing, staring down at his tea.

"Nothing to say, for once? That's a change."

"I'm sorry."

She glanced up at him, surprised by the remorseful look she saw.

"I know it makes no difference now and won't change your opinion of me, but I am genuinely sorry. For everything. Every foul thing I've ever said or done to you and your friends."

"You're right."

He looked up at her stony expression.

"It doesn't make a difference."

He stood up abruptly, balling up his fists before storming off.

Hermione knew, somewhere in the back of her mind that it had been cruel of her to say what she had, rather than accept his apology like a decent person, but she didn't feel like a decent person and after all that he had done to her over the years, she certainly wasn't of the opinion that he was decent either. She watched as the steam from his abandoned cup of tea slowly trickled away.

With bitter resentment she realized that he had been decent to her since they had arrived in the room. He had offered her the cot without asking. He had healed her wounds and made sure she ate. He had even made her a cup of tea. And he had let her into his mind. Perhaps she had been too quick to judge him without considering who he was now and all that he had done in the present. In truth, she had never given much thought as to what Draco's life must have been like as a Death Eater. Or even as the son of a Death Eater. She had constantly done her best to ignore him to try and keep her friends out of trouble.

Thinking about Harry and Ron made her heart hurt and a fresh wave of tears fell down her cheeks.

Some time later she walked back to their camp near the Vanishing Cabinet. As she passed the stuffed troll she heard sobs coming from around the corner. Peering around the corner cautiously, she saw Draco sitting there, his face in his hands. She approached slowly, making sure to shuffle her feet so that he would hear her. She held out the cup of tea which she had magically rewarmed for him and he looked up at her, not with a scowl like she had been expecting, but with agony. He clutched his left arm in pain, balling his robes in a white-knuckled grip.

"What is it?" she asked cautiously.

"He's summoning me. He's been trying for hours now. He's bound to suspect something." He buried his face in his hands again, wracking his fingers through his hair.

Hermione set the cup aside and sat at his feet, unsure of what to say or do. "You don't know that. He might think that I escaped and took you hostage."

Her words did little to comfort him. "He'll torture my parents when I don't show up. And I just left them, without a second thought."

"He doesn't know what happened. Your parents will be alright." She tried to use a soothing voice, but it cracked at the very end as she tried to keep out the images and memories that flashed to her mind. Voldemort had no qualms with torturing his own followers. She knew that. And so did Draco. She had no doubt that Voldemort had made Lucius Malfoy pay after he had found out about the diary and again after he had failed to bring back the prophecy and let Harry escape. The man she saw at the manor had looked close to madness. She remembered his mother, Narcissa, shielding her son as Bellatrix had tortured her. His face had been ghostly white, eyes wide with terror. But then Bellatrix's spell had hit her and she had lost sight of the room and anything else besides the pain.

She pushed the cup of tea into his hands and he looked up at her, studying her face. "He ordered us to raid your home back in September after you disappeared and never showed up for school. But they didn't find you or your parents. And you managed to stay hidden for a long time. Maybe he'll believe you've hidden me somewhere. Yeah, my father would undoubtedly try to blame you if he could."

A lump formed in her throat. Hermione couldn't help but feel hopeful that her parents might still be out there somewhere safe and sound. She had not allowed herself to think of them in some time.

Draco wiped the tears from his eyes and lifted the cup of tea with a sniff. "Here's to hoping they believe the worst of you and not the best of me," he said with bitterness, taking a sip. He still couldn't bring himself to look at her. He wiped at his eyes again. "How did you manage to hide them, anyway?" His silver eyes were curious and hopeful.

"Don't ask."

"But it could help me hide my parents if-"

"No. I still don't trust you. For all I know, this could be a lie to get information out of me."

He reeled back with a sneer. "You really still don't trust me? Bloody hell, Granger, what more can I possibly do to show you that I'm on your side?"

"You chose to become a Death Eater-"

"Chose? Chose? You think there's a choice when you're the son of a Death Eater? You think when the Dark Lord wants you to take the mark, you can refuse? Even if it was something that I thought I wanted at one time, I quickly found out I was wrong. I thought I understood what it meant, but I was so, so wrong. I never wanted to hurt people like that! I never wanted to kill innocent people. You think that I wanted to be like Greyback or McNair or Mulciber or my dear Aunt Bellatrix? There is no out of this unless I die! But I'm too much of a bloody coward for that!" He screamed, thrusting his bare wrist in her face.

At first she thought that he was showing her the Dark Mark branded onto his skin, but then she noticed the lines of scars running in all directions across his wrist, including one deep one running directly down the length of the mark. It was not not like many of the other smaller scars; it was the shiny reddish pink of a fresh scar that had not had the time yet to fade. She covered her mouth with her hand as she looked into his bloodshot eyes.

She didn't need legilimency to see the broken young man in front of her. Gone was the Draco Malfoy who spent his young school days doing whatever he could to try and show up Harry Potter. Gone was the arrogant, confident young man of noble birth who carried a sense of entitlement everywhere he went. Gone was the boy who had called her "mudblood" and strutted about the castle as if his name alone would protect him from anything. This shattered, broken, wounded young man sat in his place. A young man who flinched at memories of calling a young girl "mudblood" and cried at the memories of the bloody corpses of people he once considered enemies. A young man who had once believed his father's name and power could protect him from anything and had learned the hard way how terribly untrue that was. A boy who had been marked as a Death Eater at sixteen.

A memory of a different teenager branded at sixteen surfaced in Hermione's mind. Regulus Black, who had joined the Death Eaters as a teenager and sacrificed himself at eighteen in the hopes of destroying Voldemort once and for all. Hating herself for her own prejudices and fears, she remembered the Death Eater who had wanted to leave and knew the only way out was to die. And he had died alone, rebelling against the evil of the Dark Lord.

Cursing herself, she bit her tongue and looked up at Draco Malfoy and tried with all her might to see the person sitting in front of her. A part of her, the part that remembered all that he said and did to torment her in school reeled against the attempt to see good in him, but she knew she was going to understand the whole picture she would have to set that image of him aside. He was still breathing hard, nostrils flared, lips pulled into a bitter frown as she tentatively lifted her own arm, where the word "mudblood" could still be seen clearly. They both had their scars.

Pushing her shame aside, she looked up at the pale blonde figure sitting in front of her and extended her left hand. "I'm sorry," she said with a huff. "It's not easy to trust you after all that's happened. But you're not the first Death Eater to turn against Voldemort and the rest, so I'm going to try and trust you," she added, doing her best to keep her voice level.

Draco eyed her suspiciously, uncertainty written across his face.

"I don't think that this necessarily makes us friends, but perhaps in the meantime, we can consider each other allies and try to get through this… together."

He looked down at her forearm and suppressed a shiver at the sight of the word carved there, but turned his arm and accepted her hand with a firm shake, nodding stiffly.

Their hands dropped away and Hermione clenched her fist open and closed, residual heat from his hand lingering after they parted.

There was a moment where Draco was at a loss for words and Hermione, in a similar position, could think of no other gesture than to give him some space.

Pausing, she turned back to see Draco staring once more down into the cup of tea she had offered him and said, "And call me Hermione."

"Hermione," he repeated, biting his lip. She gave a cursory nod and left him alone.

Without any real purpose, she wandered up and down the mountains and stacks of discarded objects. She found several piles of empty wine, butterbeer, and firewhisky bottles that made her wrinkle her nose at the ripe stench that came from the combination of fumes. A mountain of hair ties, ribbons, combs, bobby pins, headbands, and other hair accessories surprised and delighted Hermione and made her wonder if the room was not only a place for hidden items, but lost ones as well. She even managed to find a scrunchy she had lost during second year and a butterfly clip that she was certain had once belonged to Lavender Brown.

She wandered a bit further and found a pile of single socks, an assortments of keys, and several quills with dried ink staining the nibs. There was even a stuffed vulture hat similar to the one she remembered Professor Snape wearing after Neville's turn with the boggart from their Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Lupin. Smiling at the memory she put it on top of her head, picturing the smiles and laughter of her classmates. She remembered Neville beaming for what was most likely the very first time in a class that wasn't herbology. What was he doing now? Was he outside the walls with Ginny and Luna? Were there still classes? Or had Hogwarts disbanded, the students and teachers forced to go into hiding or be subject to Voldemort's demands?

"Can't say that I like the look," came a voice and she spun to see Draco grinning at her.

Rolling her eyes, she removed the hat and set it on a stack of records next to an old gramophone.

"I'm pretty sure dead animals on hats went out of style half a century ago," he commented, joining her next to a pile of fanged frisbees nesting in a bundle of old house scarves.

"I wasn't trying it on to make a fashion statement," she said in a droll voice, folding her arms across her chest. "It just reminded me of the hat Neville's boggart wore."

"Hang on, was that the one where the boggart turned into Professor Snape in a dress? Blimey, the whole school was making jokes about it for weeks," he chuckled.

"I thought you liked Snape, though."

He shrugged. "It's still funny to picture him in a dress, especially with that thing on his head."

"There was a handbag too," she smirked and his grin widened.

"Come this way," he said, striding off down a row. Hermione, hesitating for only a brief second, followed behind him. When they had passed several suits of armor and a club that looked suspiciously like the one that belonged to the mountain troll from her first year, they came to a large section of wall covered in stacks of books and scrolls and dusty tomes. Hermione gasped in astonishment while Draco watched her face with a smirk, arms folded across his chest triumphantly.

"Had a feeling you'd appreciate this section. There's probably more books here than there are in the entire Hogwarts library. I reckon there's more than a few nasty ones, but you'd be surprised what you can find here."

Hermione's fingertips stretched out to stroke the titles. Many of them, unsurprisingly, looked to be volumes on banned dark subjects or branches of magic that were no longer pursued at Hogwarts. Hermione pulled one down with ancient runes before another caught her eye on druid magic rituals. Soon enough she had a huge stack in her arms, which she carried over to a heavily graffitied desk covered in mismatched earrings. Sweeping the earrings into a nearby vase, she couldn't help but feel a little bit more comfortable being back at Hogwarts with a book in her hands.

Draco watched her as she settled in before turning back to the long rows of bookshelves and selecting a few himself. He made himself comfortable on a rickety chair and they read well into the afternoon.

"Did you read anything interesting?" Draco asked that evening as they ate canned soup straight from the tins; a few of the remaining food items that Hermione had had stored up before she had been captured.

It seemed that every time she looked at him she was trying to decide if she should answer or not. "Yes," she finally said. "I read some very interesting facts about druid rituals and their purposes. It's a shame classes never really covered the topic, seeing as how it so clearly influenced Celtic wizarding culture and society." She spent several more minutes going in-depth about the practices and the magical connections with primal sources until she saw a grin tugging at the corner of Draco's mouth. "What?" she scowled.

Draco shook his head a little and stirred his spoon around in the tin of mushy carrots and noodles, although he still couldn't hide his grin. "Nothing. You just remind me of how you were in class."

Her scowl increased and she put her tin down angrily with a huff. "What is that supposed to mean? Or are you referring to me as a bossy little know-it-all?"

Rolling his eyes he shook his head once more. "No. Nothing of the sort. I just remember that you were always so eager to learn about the magical world. You were always so excited to share what you'd learned."

Hermione had not been expecting this kind of response in the slightest and looked down into her lap.

Noticing her discomfort, he added, "Even though it was annoying."

This broke the tension and she smiled as she reached for her tin again.

Later that evening she and Draco looked around through the stacks for food or other supplies that could be handy. Next to a piles of jars that contained old congealed potions Hermione came across a trunk that rattled when she approached it. A shriek escaped her lips before she could stop herself and Draco came flying around the corner with his wand out. The trunk rattled again.

"Leave the trunk locked. There's a boggart in there."

"How do you know?"

"My psychic abilities," he replied sarcastically, stacking a few large crates on top of the trunk so it didn't rattle so hard. "Because I'm the one who put it there. I ran into it last year. That's why the trunk is locked."

Hermione nodded, chewing on her lip. "What was it?"

"What? I just told you-"

"Your boggart. What was it?"

He was quiet then and even in the dim light Hermione could tell the color drained from his face.

"Draco?" She hesitated, wondering if she had pushed too far.

He was very still, his white knuckles still clutching the lip of one of the crates. "It was him. Torturing my mother. Telling me I had failed him and her suffering was on my behalf." The words leaked out of him and he felt relieved to have been able to confide that with someone other than a ghost.

"I'm sorry, Draco. I know that you must miss them terribly. Your mother seems like a strong woman though. I'm sure she's fine."

"Are you sure?" It came out harsher than he had meant it to, but his anger at himself for abandoning her weighed heavily on him.

Hermione however, did not flinch; she was used to him snapping at her. "No. But I have hope. She's made it this far, hasn't she?"

Draco scoffed under his breath. "True for everyone until their time is up." And then he thought for a minute, remembering his mother and how she had helped him and his father through the past year with the Dark Lord and his followers in their home. She was stronger than most people gave her credit for. Stronger than the Malfoy men, that was certain. The thought made him smile. "Yeah. Yeah, she'll be alright. My mother is a tough woman." Still, a surge of guilt welled up inside his stomach at the thought of how worried she must be at this moment, if nothing else. "He won't kill her. Or my father, I don't think." Although he was less certain about his father's case.

"My mother was never marked. Although a lot of the wives weren't given the opportunity. They were supposed to produce more pureblood heirs to grow up and become Death Eaters. But my mother is allowed to sit in on inner circle meetings. Did you know that?" he said, turning to Hermione, his brow creased. "There's only one female Death Eater in his inner circle." He noticed Hermione flinch out of the corner of his eye and tried to steer the conversation away from Bellatrix. "He doesn't seem to think that witches are as capable as wizards." He looked at Hermione then and tried to smile. "It seems he's got it the wrong way around. Brightest witch in our year," he stated with a nod at Hermione.

"Did you know that brooding mothers are the fiercest of the dragons? Perhaps it's true of all mothers." Hermione recited from a conversation she had had with Charlie Weasley.

"What about your mother? Is she a fierce woman? I don't think I've ever heard you talk about her."

He knew at once that it had been a mistake; she turned away from him and could tell she was doing her best not to cry.

"Oh yes. My mum has always been more protective of me than my father."

"Where are they now?" he asked before he had the sense not to. Kicking himself, he was surprised when she answered in a small voice.

"I don't know. I modified their memories and sent them away to keep them safe. They don't know I exist. And I have no idea where they are."

It was at this point that Hermione's willpower broke and tears cascaded down her cheeks, and she tried to brush them away, embarrassed that she was crying in front of Draco Malfoy of all people, especially after she had held it together throughout most of her journey with Harry and Ron. But losing them had already wounded her so deeply the scabs ripped open and it all came flooding out of her in horrible, wretched sobs. She covered her face with her hands, sucking in air as her whole body shook violently.

"I don't even know where they are or how I'm supposed to find them! I obliviated my own parents! If I die, they won't even remember me!" She cried harder than she had ever cried in her life. She had been missing them for ages. Listening to Ron complain about not being home and then leaving them both behind hit her so hard in the gut. Because she didn't have the option of running back to her parents. She had sacrificed her own family to help her friends defeat Voldemort. Now she didn't even have them. "What if he finds them first? He'll kill them just like-"

And then her breath caught in her throat and she was clutching at it, gasping for air. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't bear it. It was too much. She lost feeling in her legs and they began to give out underneath her.

As she fell, Draco caught her in his arms and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her in an embrace. "We're not going to let that happen. Do you hear me? We're not going to let that happen. We're going to figure this out. We'll find your parents and my parents and find a way to hide them where no one will ever look. It will be okay. It's not over yet."

Between deep, shuddering breaths, she managed to squeak out, "I miss them. I miss them so much."

Draco, thankful that his face was buried in her bushy hair so that she could not see the tears falling down his own cheeks, said, "I know. I know. I miss mine too."

Once Hermione's breathing had calmed she took a step back and Draco released her immediately, uncertain whether or not he had done the right thing in his attempt to comfort her. In truth, a crying girl was something that he had never felt capable of dealing with. He was naturally snarky and avoided physical contact with others if he could at all help it. But this was not the petty crying of Pansy Parkinson after her favorite band broke up. This was the release of very real, painful, built-up emotion from enduring a private war for far too long. It was bleeding out the poison from a wound; as painful as it was necessary for survival.

Hermione crouched on the floor, sinking back and wrapping her arms around her knees. Blotchy wet spots appeared on her sweater sleeve.

Draco sunk down next to her too, avoiding eye contact as he twisted his wand between his fingers, lost in his own thoughts and demons. A thought occurred to him and with a flick of his wand he performed a summoning charm that sent his bag of miscellaneous useful items he had found skidding up the row to them. He offered Hermione his handkerchief like a proper pureblood gentleman, which she timidly accepted with her thanks, and he pulled out a pack of dusty butterbeer bottles. Using his wand he vacuumed the dust off of the bottles and passed one to Hermione. "Found them unopened in the next row over. Hopefully they've gotten stronger with age."

Draco popped the lid off with his wand and Hermione did the same with Greyback's wand. The spell worked well enough, although she stared at the wand with loathing. "I hate this thing. I want my own wand back."

They both drank a swig each from the butterbeer and grimaced slightly at the taste. Time certainly had made it stronger.

"I'll keep an eye out for another wand. Odds are there's one in here somewhere. But you might find that this wand works better than the one lying around here. Wand ownership is tricky and apparently a wand bested is more reliable than a wand borrowed, according to Olivander." Thinking about Olivander made his stomach roll over and he set the butterbeer aside as he shut his eyes and tried to keep his soup down.

Hermione too noticed his sudden green color and understood what it must mean. Olivander had been missing for months. Perhaps he too had been held down in the cellar. Draco must have felt so helpless, unable to free people who were being held in his own home as hostages. Like he was himself. He must have wanted to help the people Voldemort had captured and held captive, but was too afraid of what would happen if he did. Or worse, what would happen if he failed. Now there was no chance of him managing anything.

The silence stretched between them, but neither one seemed to have the energy or the will to get up.

"Do you remember the final for Defense Against the Dark Arts during third year?" Hermione asked.

Draco remembered. He had lost points for following a hinkypunk. "Yeah. Why?"

Hermione rolled her bottle in her hands. "I did pretty well until I got to the boggart."

"Let me guess, you got less than a perfect score on a test?"

Hermione smiled despite herself. "You sound like Ron and Harry." She pretended not to notice as he winced. "When the boggart came out it was Professor McGonagall telling me that I had failed everything. I was being expelled from Hogwarts. They were taking my wand because they had clearly made a mistake and I didn't belong." She rolled up her sleeve and glanced down at the word again.

Draco's face twisted in shame and he looked away from the word "mudblood" carved there.

"I suppose I see why you and everyone else teased me about how obsessed I was with grades and studying. I was a ridiculously obnoxious nerd. And I get why it was easy to call me 'mudblood' and look down on me when you were born into the magical world. But to me it was a gift. It was something I was given and I was terrified that if I didn't constantly prove myself worthy, they might take it all away from me. So, you and I, we're not so different."

He raised an eyebrow at her, frowning.

"We're both terrified of failure." She smiled at the end, although she quickly shoved her sleeve back down to her wrist and took another swig of the butterbeer, making a face.

Draco was quiet for a minute. He had never thought about what it must have been like to find out one day that he was a wizard and there was a whole hidden world that he suddenly got to be a part of. He chuckled lightly and shook his head to himself.

"What?"

"I got stuck on that part of the course too. Once the boggart came out, do you know what it was?"

"A bouncing ferret?"

A laugh escaped him before he could contain it, but he turned it into a mocking sneer and flipped Hermione the bird. "You're forgetting, this was third year. Way before the Mad-Eye thing."

Hermione pressed her lips together to keep herself from sniggering and nodded her head.

"It wasn't a ferret. Or _him_. It was my father." He took a moment to appreciate the questioning look that she gave him. "He was telling me I was a failure. A disgrace to the family. That I would be disowned and disinherited. Cast out." He took another swig, thinking about the incident. "You see, I was afraid of failing too. Failing my family. Failing to be the wizard everyone expected me to be. I was afraid I would be kicked out too."

Hermione shrugged. "It's not quite the same though. I mean, you would still get to be a wizard."

"You don't get it because you weren't raised in pureblood society, but being disinherited and disowned by your own family is very similar to being kicked out of the wizarding world entirely."

Hermione did understand that, at least on some level. After Sirius had been disowned by his mother she knew that he had moved in with the Potters and hadn't been back to his family home until forced to long after his parents were dead.

"They don't just kick you out of the house. They kick you out of society too. Everyone you've ever known will treat you like scum. And the people who were once your friends will turn on you just the same."

He took another sip, contemplating. "I never got to even meet my aunt Andromeda. She was my mother's sister and they were very close, much closer than she and Bellatrix were, but when she fell in love with someone who wasn't pureblood, poof!" He made an exploding gesture with his hand. "Gone. Just like that. Banished from friends and family. My mother misses her like crazy. She tried to see her at first, after it happened. In secret, of course. But someone squealed and my mother was threatened with the same type of banishment and disinheritance if she tried to associate with her again."

"You know," Hermione quipped, uncertainly. "I think Andromeda was happy with Mr. Tonks. It breaks my heart to think she lost him. And with a grandchild on the way too. He was a good man, Mr. Tonks." And the weight of sadness fell on her chest once again as she remembered hearing his voice in the forest.

"It was Bellatrix who killed him."

Hermione looked at him, eyes wide with shock, but a part of her had suspected. "Of course it was."

She finished her butterbeer in silence and filled the bottle with water when she was done, trying in vain to get rid of the sweet lingering aftertaste. "Tonks, their daughter, must be due any day now. She might have even had the baby already. Maybe you'll get the chance to meet the rest of your family once this is over."

"Merlin, how can there still be people bringing babies into the world at a time like this?"

Hermione shrugged. "Life goes on, one way or another. You can't stop living just because you're afraid." She was aware that she sounded every bit the Gryffindor as she said it.

"Yeah. I suppose."

"Look at when your mother had you."

"True. I always wondered if that was one of the reasons why our year was one of the ones to have the fewest students in decades. People didn't want to have kids because they were afraid to. And people had kids because they were afraid they wouldn't get a chance later." He took several long gulps of his second butterbeer and finished it off.

"There can still be happy moments even in the darkest of times. People can still fall in love, get married, and live their lives even in all this chaos." She thought of Bill and Fleur's wedding for a brief moment, but she quickly pushed the thoughts aside as memories of Ron floated to the surface.

"It still seems crazy to me."

"It's not crazy to be happy. Or hope that one day things will get better after the bad times end."

He looked at her then and she felt his eyes pull her gaze up to his, searching her face. "Do you really still think that there will be an after?"

She pressed her lips together but did not look away from him. There was fire in her eyes. "I do. It isn't over yet."

His brow creased and he frowned. "It seems like it's over to me. Without Potter, there isn't a Chosen One to stop _him_. What's left of the rebellion will fall soon enough. He was planning on making his movements public once he believed that there was no one strong enough to oppose him. How on earth do you still have hope that things will get better?"

Hermione smiled to herself. "Because of you."

Draco's scowl gradually softened in surprise and confusion. "Me?" he squeaked.

Hermione nodded, enjoying the look of bewilderment on his face. "Yes, you. A Death Eater and my personal enemy for the past seven years defied his allegiances, rescued me, and risked losing everything and everyone he loved to do so. If there was one person who I thought might one day help save my life, I never would have guessed it would be you."

Draco's face went through several expressions in quick succession as he digested this. "Did you just insult and compliment me at the same time?" he accused, crossing his arms. "Bloody hell, Hermione, you sure know how to flatter a bloke," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Hermione shook her head and a small private smile slipped onto her face.

"What?"

"You called me Hermione."

Draco thought his eyes might roll out of his head, although a faint blush crept up to his cheeks. "Yeah, well, might as well get on a first name basis if we're both going to be stuck here for a while." He hoped his tone came off more light-hearted than he felt.

A thoughtful, contemplative expression settled on Hermione's face as she regarded him carefully. Then, opening her mouth tentatively, she said, "I suppose so... Draco."

He lifted an eyebrow in amusement, but he liked the way she said his name.

Hermione took another sip. "And that is why, against my better judgement, I have decided to trust you."

"Really giving it your best with the compliments today, aren't you?"

She scrunched her nose at him good-humouredly and he relaxed into the pile of cushions. "If the past is any indication, I have good reason to withhold my trust."

That wiped the smug smile from his lips, leaving behind a stony mask of contrition. He leaned in, trying with all his might to prove to her that she really could trust him: that this time he would be worthy of that trust.

"I have a mission and I need help." She felt her eyes burn, but forced back her feelings. Harry and Ron were gone now and it was up to her to stop Voldemort once and for all. And she needed all the help she could get.

Taking a deep breath to steel herself she explained in as much detail as she dared about the mission Dumbledore had left them. Draco's face was white as a sheet while he listened. When she pulled out the pierced remains of the locket from her beaded bag he visibly recoiled.

"You're saying he made more of those things?"

Hermione nodded. "Including the diary he gave your father. Harry destroyed it back in second year down in the Chamber of Secrets."

At this revelation he turned a greenish color and gripped his knees with white knuckles. "I had no idea. I swear, I didn't know what it was or what it could do. I swear on my mother's life, I didn't."

Hermione didn't say anything, although her sharp eyes watched his face closely before she told him about the three horcruxes that had already been destroyed and the ones that still remained. "But we aren't sure what the final one is. Most likely it's something from Ravenclaw."

"The only thing I've heard of is Ravenclaw's lost diadem," he said, trying to be helpful. Although perhaps suggesting a 'lost' ancient relic was not the best idea.

Hermione imagined the recreation of the diadem that Mr. Lovegood had been working on and frowned.

"Do you know where any of them are?"

Hermione chewed on her lip. "I…I have a theory about a possible location for one of them."

He waited for her to continue as she paused uneasily. "Back at your home, back when Bellatrix…"

He shut his eyes and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the mental images that came flying into place.

"When she was…" her voice caught in her throat, but she pressed on, determined. "She was panicking, once she saw the sword. She thought that we had been in her vault. I think that there might be a horcrux in there."

A nervous muscle twitched in his jaw. "That's definitely a strong possibility. He gave one of them to my father, I wouldn't be surprised if he gave one to the Lestranges. And there's not a single place safer in the whole wizarding world. Except Hogwarts. Maybe one of them is here too!" he said excitedly.

"But Dumbledore surely would have found it, right?"

Draco shrugged. "They didn't know there was a giant network of pipes that connected to a secret underground lair that housed a gigantic basilisk, Hermione. I don't think it would be out of the realm of possibilities."

Hermione considered it, but this time she voiced her thoughts and shared what she knew of Voldemort's past as Tom Riddle.

"Well, I think it's worth a shot! I mean, maybe it's down in the Chamber of Secrets right now. It would make sense since he's one of a few who can speak Parseltongue. And he was the one who opened it before. We could ask Elizabeth!"

Hermione frowned. "Who?"

"Elizabeth. The ghost that haunts the bathrooms. Moaning Myrtle, you know." He gestured with his hands. "Except she hates being called that. She told me to call her Elizabeth."

Hermione gave him a strange look. Even she had never asked Myrtle what she liked to be called and she had spent months in her bathroom illegally brewing polyjuice potion. For once she was more inconsiderate than Malfoy. Shame coiled around in her stomach.

Nodding, she agreed with him. "It's a possibility. But since neither of us speak Parseltongue, getting in ourselves will prove to be difficult."

"Okay, well where else might he have hidden it?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'm really not sure. Do you know anything that might help?"

Draco rubbed at his chin as he thought. "Maybe the Riddle Manor? I know he used it as a base during his initial rise to power. But no, he wouldn't hide it somewhere his muggle relatives lived. He wouldn't want his followers finding out he's a half-bood. And if the shack where his mother lived housed one nearby, they'd be too close. But Gringotts is a solid option. And Hogwarts. Maybe he gave them to other prominent Death Eaters?"

Hermione listened to his train of thought, refuting possible locations they had already checked or ruled out. He asked her detailed questions and openly shared what he knew or suspected from his time around Voldemort and his inner circle. Hermione listened attentively and asked questions herself about possible Death Eater hideouts as places for consideration.

Draco felt a stirring in his heart as they discussed possible locations and methods for destroying horcruxes. It meant that there was a chance, a real chance, that Voldemort could be killed once and for all. But it was more than that. It wasn't just hope for survival, but a burning desire to fight against the person of whom he was most afraid; the person who threatened his family. Draco knew that if his father or mother heard him now, divulging Death Eater secrets to someone outside the inner circle they would reprimand him severely. But he knew he had to do this. It was the only way out. It was the only way he might be able to save his parents.

"How do you destroy the horcruxes? What did you use to stab this one?" he asked seriously, rolling the destroyed locket in his hands, touching the pierced parts of it.

"The sword. Gryffindor's sword. It's infused with basilisk venom."

His face fell. "And the sword, which I'm guessing is the real one, is still back at the manor?"

It wasn't so much a direct question, but she confirmed it with a nod.

"And Dumbledore used it to destroy the ring. Potter used a basilisk fang on the diary back in second year. So what are the other methods?"

"Unfortunately," Hermione sighed, rubbing her head, "There isn't a lot of information about destroying them. It has to be something that will destroy the horcrux beyond repair."

Draco thought for a while. "What about other types of venom? Or fiendfyre? The Carrows have been teaching us dark arts and it's one of the few spells that is supposed to be able to destroy magical enchantments."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, considering. "It's possible. But fiendfyre is a notoriously difficult spell to control. Most people who try it cause a great deal of harm to themselves and others without proper training. The Great Fire of London was caused by a wizard who was attempting the spell when it got out of hand." Hermione almost added something else. She had her own private reasons why she didn't want to try fiendfyre, remembering the cursed purple flames of the bastard fiendfyre Dolohov had scarred her with during the fight in the Department of Mysteries.

Chewing her lip she said, "But maybe a different kind of venom could work." Her eyes lit up as she remembered something. "Harry said that Slughorn took some vials of acromantula during our sixth year. He might still have some. Perhaps we could sneak down and try to find it?"

"Or maybe we could get a couple basilisk fangs while we're checking out the Chamber of Secrets."

Hermione did her best not to frown. "It would be easier to check out Slughorn's office and supply store room. We don't need to speak Parseltongue to get in there."

"I don't think you know Sluggy as well as you think you do. Acromantula venom is worth a great deal, but it's also an illegal substance. I'm sure Sluggy got his money's worth as soon as he could. He wouldn't still keep it in Hogwarts where anyone could find out he had it."

"Either way, we would still need to find one of them first."

"Well, we know that the snake is with him, so it's just Hufflepuff's cup and possibly Ravenclaw's lost diadem. Piece of cake, really," he joked light-heartedly.

He leaned back, suddenly feeling exhausted, but hopeful. Hermione rubbed at her eyes and they called it a night.


	3. Chapter 3: Searching

**Chapter 3: Searching**

Hermione woke up in a cold sweat, panting heavily.

Draco was there, holding out a cup of tea as she untwisted herself from the blanket and accepted the drink. "Want to talk about it?" he finally asked.

Hermione brought the cup to her lips and blew on the steam. Her hands still shook slightly.

"Was it Bellatrix?"

She shook her head. "No. It was _him _and his snake." She didn't elaborate, but she had a distinct feeling that he understood. Afterall, Voldemort would have been all too keen to share his wrath after they escaped on Christmas Eve.

With a stiff nod he went back to his spot on the cushions, propping up his knee and picking up a quill and some parchment. "What is that?" she asked, sipping her tea.

"Give me just a second and I'll show you," he said, concentrating on the parchment in his lap. When Hermione had drained the tea from her mug Draco was adding the finishing touches. Satisfied with it, he walked over to Hermione and showed her what he had been working on.

He had drawn a surprisingly artistic and detailed image of a tiara: the metal twisted into delicate feathering around a single large central sapphire. Along the bottom edge was an inscription: "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure."

Hermione stared at it in shock. "Is... is this Ravenclaw's diadem?"

Draco raised an amused eyebrow at her gaping mouth. "Well don't look so surprised, Hermione. Some of us have read a book or two on the Hogwarts founders," he said, leaning against the Vanishing Cabinet, a satisfied smirk painted on his face.

"I just... didn't know you could draw so well. And from memory at that."

He rolled his eyes dramatically. "I thought you surely would have figured it out by now, Hermione. I'm a creative genius. Or did you think Crabbe and Goyle were the masterminds behind all my jokes on Potter over the years?"

Flashes of Potter Stinks badges and chants of Weasley is Our King came to mind. The glare she gave him wiped the smirk off his face.

He coughed and nodded at the drawing. "Anyway, that's what it's supposed to look like, according to what I've seen and read."

"And do you think this might be what he gave Bellatrix to hide in her vault?"

He frowned at her. "No, I think not. Wouldn't want Bellatrix to get any grandiose ideas by putting a crown on her head." He watched her study the drawing before handing it back to him graciously.

"Thank you. That's very helpful."

"What does the cup look like? Can you draw it?" He held out the quill to her.

She shook her head, flushing slightly. "I really can't draw."

"Come on, give it your best. Otherwise, how am I supposed to know it if I see it?"

"I've only ever heard Harry describe it."

He pushed the ink bottle over to her and raised the quill.

Hermione took the paper and spread it out on a stack of books, muttering irritably.

Draco watched her as she drew and chuckled at her attempts to make the two handles on the cup even. "Wow, you really are terrible," he grinned.

Scowling, she shoved the parchment into his hands. "It should look something like that with the crest on it."

"Dear me, is that supposed to be a badger? I thought it was a rabbit." She swatted at him as he jumped back, giggling with mirth.

"What?!" she snapped.

"Finally, there's something that I'm better at than Hermione Granger."

She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips tugged upwards into a smile. "You were always better on a broom," she reminded him and his grin widened. It was the first actual compliment she had given him that hadn't been back-handed.

They resumed their search to find supplies as their food stores were quickly running low and they were starting to ration what they had. Along the way they found other useful items. Hermione found an old sneakoscope that Draco was certain he could fix up. Draco found a large quantity of alcohol in sealed bottles under a tarp. In a cupboard with tiny drawers they found an assortment of potion ingredients which Hermione stuffed into her bag. Draco was fascinated by an umbrella stand full of swords from centuries ago. He even found a wand hidden in a cane amongst them and offered it to Hermione, who was very pleased to have a new wand to try out.

She practiced levitation charms with it most of the day, but they were feeble attempts and she grew disheartened when the new wand didn't work as well as Greyback's. She was beginning to understand how terrible Harry must have felt using the blackthorn wand.

Draco managed to find a large supply of chocolate frogs, a few tins of canned ham, packages of dried noodles Hermione recognized from muggle shops, and a heart-shaped box filled with chocolates. Hermione found a bag of chicken feed, several moldy packages whose contents were creating their own ecosystems, a jar of dried grubs, a fruit cake that was likely still edible, a package of sugar quills, three peppermint sticks, and a large knuckle bone from some unknown creature.

They had avoided the sections from the night before, as if the memory of the place might draw in the wretched pain and suffering from the previous evening. Neither one of them seemed to be willing to stray too far from one another in the enormous room, perhaps out of fear that they might run across something like a boggart, or perhaps because they didn't want to feel too alone or lost in the silence between the rows. Or maybe they were both beginning to enjoy each other's company.

As they worked together to shift through an incredibly unstable pile Draco asked her questions about the horcruxes and what she knew of Voldemort's past. He seemed especially interested in his parentage and the history of the Gaunt family, remarking that his half-blood status was not known amongst the Death Eaters. He shared what he had been told and both of them were surprised to learn the different lies that they had believed. Hermione was disturbed to hear of the dark arts rituals Voldemort and his followers participated in.

Immense guilt hung over Draco's head when he learned about a young Tom Riddle framing Hagrid, whom he himself had been so cruel to, and blaming the death of Myrtle Elizabeth Warren on him. He was surprised to find out that the Dark Lord had closed the Chamber of Secrets in order to avoid returning to the muggle orphanage in the chance that he might stay at Hogwarts over the summer. "Well now I'm really convinced one of his horcruxes must be in the castle. Or maybe the grounds. Do you think he'd hide it in the Forbidden Forest?"

There was a nervous edge to his voice that Hermione pretended not to notice. "I doubt it. There are a bunch of sentient creatures in the forest who might pick up on the dark magic of a cursed object. It wouldn't be very safe."

"Maybe he threw it in the lake?"

"I don't think so. His other locations held a personal connection with his history. Not to mention he was rather fond of a bit of drama." To her surprise Draco laughed.

"I have to admire your bravery at calling the Dark Lord a drama queen." She was a Gryffndor through and through. His face darkened as he wondered if she still would have said that had she seen the Dark Lord and his "dramatics" in action.

* * *

Later that evening the two of them sat in front of a small cookfire with spitting canned ham slices sizzling away in a skillet. A warm can of beans was the only other food they had with their ham for supper.

Afterwards, with full bellies the two of them pored over a few more treasures they had found. Draco was looking over one of the swords he had found, trying to translate the inscription with the ancient runes text Hermione had lent him. Hermione sat with an ornate jewelry box in front of her and was tapping it with the cane wand, trying to work a simple levitation charm, but all she could manage was to get it off the ground an inch or so before the spell broke. It was incredibly frustrating.

After a while Draco stopped to glance up at her. "I already tried opening that thing. I used every translation spell I know, but it wouldn't open for me."

Broken from her concentration, Hermione looked at him, confused, and then tried to lift the lid of the box only to find it wouldn't give. "_Alohomora,_" she muttered, but the flash of light did nothing. Frustrated, she pulled out Greyback's wand and tried again. "_Alohomora._" The lock flashed brighter this time, but still it would not budge.

"I tried that too," Draco said, flicking through the book next to him. "Check the inscription. You need a secret word or phrase to open it."

Determined, Hermione picked up the box and read the inscription carved into the center.

"_This thing all things devours;_

_Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;_

_Gnaws iron, bites steel;_

_Grinds hard stones to meal;_

_Slays king, ruins town,_

_And beats high mountain down._"

Hermione read the inscription and then looked up in astonishment.

"Yeah. The answer to the riddle is _time_, I think, but look at the words by the lock."

She did and the place where a key might go had only a few carved words. "Speak, friend." Hot excitement bubbled up inside her.

Draco hardly noticed as he flipped back a page. "I think it means you're supposed to say the word 'friend' and it should open. I tried French, German, Welsh, Gaelic, and Italian, plus a translation spell, but nothing worked for me." As if he could sense her excited heart pumping in her chest he turned to her and set the book in his lap. "What is it?" he asked questioningly, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione practically beamed at him. "I know how to open it," she said triumphantly.

He scrambled out from under the book and knelt down next to her. "How?" he asked skeptically.

Smiling ruefully, she said, "A wizard informed me many years ago." Hermione pulled out her beaded bag and summoned her copy of _The Fellowship of the Ring_. She hadn't been able to part with any of her childhood books before she had modified her parents' memories. Her fingers brushed across the tassel of the bookmark still tucked inside.

"Muggle fairytales?"

He sounded even more skeptical and she smiled at him knowingly and snapped, "It's not a fairytale! It's literature. In the book, the wizard gives the word for friend and it opens the Doors of Durin."

Now he looked at her like she was a mad woman, then shrugged. "Well, then, let's give it a shot."

Scanning the pages, she stopped once she found what she was looking for and muttered the word clearly, tapping the tip of Greyback's wand to the case. "_Mellon_."

A blue light flashed around the sealed edges of the box and there was the unmistakable click of a lock springing open. Inside the velvet-lined box was an item that made Hermione and Draco gasp in unison: A time turner on a silver chain glowing faintly white.

Draco reached down into the box when Hermione's hand wrapped around his. "Wait! Don't! It's cracked!" And to her heartbreak, she was correct. Running down the right-hand side of the glass was a thin crack. Releasing him, Hermione instantly pulled back her hand, remembering the events from the Department of Mysteries when the case of time turners had broken and then locked itself in a loop, reforming and breaking endlessly. Or worse, when the Death Eater's head kept shrinking down to the size of an infant's.

She couldn't tear her eyes away from the object in the case though. She had regretted returning her time turner when Voldemort had come back, and had tried desperately to reason with McGonagall and Dumbledore to convince the ministry to give them one again so that they might be able to go back and stop Voldemort's return. But the ministry had believed Voldemort defeated and they would not listen to Dumbledore. By the time they realized the truth it was too late. They had all been destroyed. Except this one. This secret hidden away. Hermione wondered who had left it here. She wanted to believe it was a friendly, noble wizard like Gandalf who would have left her this token to aid her in her journey. But with the crack running down the side it was most likely a relic that had been discarded because it was now too damaged and dangerous to use. Anger constricted her throat. It wasn't fair.

She set the box down and strode off down one of the aisles; she needed some space where she could deal with her frustration and devastation alone. She hid in the section of books near the end where several empty cages and tattered suitcases stood, sheltering her away from the rest of the room as she cursed herself for letting hope get the better of her.

When she finally returned she found Draco sitting in front of the open box deep in thought, smoothing back his white blond hair. He stood as she approached, a hard set to his jaw. "I think I can fix it."

Hermione brushed past him and grabbed her tea cup. "It's broken, Draco. It can't be fixed."

"Listen to me, Hermione." His voice was level and serious. This was not an attempt to instill false hope. "I spent almost a whole school year trying to figure out how to fix the Vanishing Cabinet. It wasn't something that could be fixed with spellotape or a quick repair charm. I learned a great deal about dark magical objects that affect the natural order of time and space. I think I can figure out how to fix it."

Hermione shook her head at once. "No, Draco! I've seen what time magic can do when it goes wrong. You could be killed or obliterated into a thousand tiny pieces or end up ripping apart the universe. Even Unspeakables don't know all the secrets of certain types of magic in the Department of Mysteries!"

He smirked. "Are you worried about me?"

Rolling her eyes at his cocky expression she retorted with, "No, but I damn well am worried about what could happen to me. Not to mention the world if that thing explodes."

His lips pressed into a grim line. "Hermione… The world is already in grave danger. He's won the war. It only gets worse from here unless we can find a way to stop him. You said it yourself, it's up to us now. We have to find a way. So if we can't find the horcruxes or if something... goes wrong, I think we should use whatever tools we can."

Hermione continued to glare with disapproval, but she knew he was right. They had limited options. "Fine. Just be extremely careful. Please."

His heart fluttered excitedly just a tad and he nodded, promising that he would take every precaution.

Draco started on the project immediately. He combed the shelves and stacks for books that would help, even selecting a few he had read to help him repair the cabinet and set to work.

If Draco Malfoy could accomplish an impossible task driven by fear in less than a year, Draco Malfoy driven by hope was a force to truly be reckoned with. He pored over books with a zealous passion. There was a chance, even if it was a small one, that they might be able to defeat Voldemort permanently.

He helped Hermione discuss plans for reconnaissance and locating the remaining horcruxes. But most of the time he read old books and worked on designing several layers of spells to fix the broken time turner.

Hermione kept him company as she worked on her own research trying to figure out a way they could get into the Chamber of Secrets or Gringotts without detection. She still had Harry's cloak and a small reserve of polyjuice potion, which would help with disguises, as well as a single hair from her encounter with Bellatrix which should allow her to access her vault in disguise. The Chamber of Secrets, while physically close to them, was proving more difficult to breach. She knew that the entrance opened when Harry spoke Parseltongue, but learning the language of snakes from a book wasn't an option. She wished she had been there with Harry, Ron and Lockhart when they opened it and not petrified in the hospital wing. Or even the other time when Harry and Ron had destroyed the locket. She might have been able to recall the sounds with help from Draco's legilimency skills if she had. It seemed that no matter what she tried, all her hard work and efforts to help were all for nothing. If there was one thing she hated it was feeling useless. She had to remind herself that she was not a helpless little girl, but a fully capable and talented witch who could do anything she set out to do.

Their food supplies quickly dwindled. They were nearly down to the last of the sweets and a large supply of alcohol, which, while ideal for a party, was not ideal for long term survival. "Looks to me like we have the makings for a great Friday night," was Draco's sassy response after surveying their small inventory of food.

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the idea of a party, remembering the celebrations in Gryffindor common room with her friends. "Seems like we have to search around for some more food," Hermione said, and they began their search the next morning as the light of dawn flooded through the enchanted windows.

Hermione had woken up in a panic again and slept terribly. Draco had found her staring down at a book in her lap, her eyes fixed and unmoving some point beyond the pages. He had offered her the last sugar quill and she had accepted gratefully; the taste of lemony sweetness distracting her from her thoughts and memories while they worked their way through the stacks and aisles of junk. Hermione found a yellow plastic walkman with a Nirvana cassette inside it, reminding her of her parent's music collection at home. It didn't work, of course, but she found herself tucking it into her supply sack anyway.

As she rounded a corner she jumped in surprise before bursting into a fit of giggles, for there, standing right in front of her, was Draco Malfoy in an elaborate white wig, complete with fluttering butterflies that flapped feebly around his head; the magic charm having lost its strength over the years. Hermione clutched her stomach and covered her mouth in a vain attempt to control her giggles.

"What? I think it's very fetching, don't you?" He struck a pose and Hermione shook her head at him, unable to suppress her smile.

"You're ridiculous."

"Nonsense. I look absolutely fantastic," he retorted, checking his reflection in the back of a bent spoon.

She rolled her eyes as she passed him, but her smile lingered and Draco felt rather accomplished at the sight. She hadn't smiled all morning and Draco could sense that whatever her nightmares had been this time had been worse than usual.

They were beginning to pick up on little details like that about one another. He seemed to have developed a sixth sense about when Hermione needed to be broken out of her own dark thoughts or memories. And she was quite good at knowing when he needed to eat or drink something because he was so caught up in his work that he would ignore the symptoms and press on. She had also developed a method for dealing with his waspish humor without insulting him or making him feel guilty.

It was a slow transition, and it was still a fledgling stage of friendship, but because they were stuck together in one place all hours of the day, they had grown accustomed to each other's habits and needs. They gave each other space when they needed it and did their best to offer the other person comfort when they needed that too. They both struggled with one aspect of their arrangement, however, and that was sleep. Oftentimes, after meals in the evening they would read or brainstorm with one another, but they both seemed reluctant to go to sleep. They both knew the reason for this, of course, but neither of them admitted it. It was something that didn't need to be said aloud. They both understood. So neither of them pressed the issue when night fell and stretched on and instead they sat in contentment watching the blue flame-filled jars flicker.

Draco always offered Hermione a cup of tea when she woke. He didn't ask about her dreams unless she offered to share. Hermione made him eat a chocolate frog after he awoke from a bout of nightmares. Draco had a habit of murmuring and violently jerking in his sleep. Hermione had a habit of screaming, oftentimes silently as if someone were choking her. They both looked fairly miserable, but each of them silently agreed that they were better off together.

It had taken a while for Draco to learn Hermione's sense of humor and he knew that the best way to get her to smile was to catch her off guard. One of his latest attempts to make her laugh was trying on ridiculous pieces of old-fashioned clothing.

The first time he found a garish yellow wizard's hat with a golden star on the top of it and had politely inquired about Hermione's book to get her attention. She had cracked a smile before turning back to her book and shaking her head.

Then he found the bonnet and caught her as she was making tea. She had almost spilled the tea and had actually burst out laughing at that one. Then she had smiled rolled her eyes at him.

And so it was each time he found a flashy cape that could have come from Lockhart's closet, or a hat a pirate might have worn, or a lacy parasol. Each time she would laugh or smile before shaking her head at him. It was one of the few things about his day that brought him joy, seeing her smile like that, like they were friends and not two people forced together from the perils of war.

In truth, Draco was growing on Hermione. She liked that he left her alone when she was working on her plans or reading from the stacks she kept by her cot. She enjoyed his jokes and listened when he had an idea he wanted to run by her. He was nothing like Harry or Ron, and a small part of her thought that was for the best. She didn't need to be reminded about them constantly. Her own grief and nightmares had that covered.

There was still a part of her that couldn't quite forget his cruelty towards her in the past; although she was slowly working on forgiving him. But it was difficult for her to forgive all at once. In truth, she was not a very forgiving person. It had never come easily to her. The more time she spent with him, however, the harder it was to feel hatred.

Each time she passed the Vanishing Cabinet she didn't think about the one night Death Eaters had come into the castle, but the thousand times he must have spent pacing back and forth in front of it, fists curled in frustration and fear about what would happen if he failed to fix it. She had seen him crying some nights and had pretended to be asleep to give him what privacy she could. A few times she had seen him clutching at his mark in pain, biting his lip and digging his nails into his skin.

Unable to come up with some other form of comfort, she often made him a cup of tea or offered him something sweet. It wasn't much, but it did typically calm him a little. She gave him words of encouragement when he seemed bogged down or reclusive. Whenever she found a muggle object in a stack she would explain it to him and he would roll his eyes and make some off-handed comment about muggles finding the strangest ways to cope without magic. Then he would ask how it worked, pretending not to be interested even though she could tell he was secretly intrigued, especially by electric devices like the walkman. It became a game between them as they navigated their new relationship and circumstances.

And now, as they sorted through piles of discarded items they didn't feel as if the world was breathing down their shoulders. Hermione lifted a few fanged frisbees and accidentally squished a gobstone that squirted black ink at her front. She heard laughter from behind her and it was the first time she had heard Draco laugh like that.

The wig fell off the top of his head as he doubled over in laughter.

Hermione gave him a resigned glare as she performed a quick cleaning spell on herself.

Turning around and rolling her eyes she opened a cabinet door that looked like it had once had acid thrown at it. There was a cage inside with the skeletal remains of a five-limbed creature that made her recoil her hand and nearly slam the cabinet door shut and give it up as a bad job, but then she noticed the book: a slightly dusty copy of _Advanced Potions Making_ just like the copy she had in her bag. Her hands reached for it before she realized what she was doing and then she had it opened and there it was, in neat, tidy scrawl on the front page "This book is the property of the Half-blood Prince." Her heart froze in her chest. On their own volition her fingers flipped through the pages covered in notes and tips on crafting incredibly advanced potions. In the margins of one page Harry had drawn a snitch and her fingers rested over it, as if she might still be able to feel the warmth of his hand on the page.

"Find something interesting?" came Draco's voice from behind her. "Naturally, I find Hermione Granger with her nose in a book. Come on, you-"

But his voice was cut short when he saw the tears welling up in her eyes.

"It's Harry's," was all she managed to get out before horrible, wracking sobs shook her entire body and she couldn't breath and it was like someone had a hand over her throat and it was too much, much too much, all at once as it hit her. Harry would never come back for his book. He would never draw in the margins of it or get better test scores than her in potions. He would never again play quidditch or feel the sun on his face or drink pumpkin juice or tell her to stop studying and go to bed already. He was gone. The Boy Who Lived was no longer and her friends were gone. Gone from this world. Gone from this life. Gone from her. And there was nothing, _nothing _she could do to fix it.

The air in the room refused to let her breathe it in, and she reached out blindly for support, gripping the front of Draco's robes to keep herself from collapsing onto the floor.

Draco, caught off guard, managed to catch her and pull her in tightly, holding her against his chest as she struggled to breathe between sobs. Her whole body shook violently, but he held her there, rigid in support. And as she cried against him he understood the acute intensity of her pain and grief.

"Breathe," he said in a calming voice. "Just focus on breathing. In and out. That's it. Breathe." He rubbed her back tentatively with one hand, making sure the other one was there to keep her on her feet.

"It's not fair," she gasped between shaking breaths. "It's not fair."

"I know," he told her.

"I can't stand it."

"I know," he repeated. He knew there was little he could say to comfort her. She had lost people who were her whole world. There was nothing he could say that would make it better or soften the blow of their loss. He knew that she threw herself into books not to learn, but to escape. Her mission to stop Voldemort by finding the Horcruxes was not merely a mission of duty or justice, but a mission of love and sacrifice. She threw herself into it because she needed to distract herself, to do something other than think about those she had lost. She needed a reason to carry on.

Draco held her until she could stand on her own. He didn't try to tell her it would be okay. He couldn't bring himself to say it when he didn't entirely believe it himself.

And then all at once she pushed herself away from him, holding her arms tightly to her stomach. She couldn't do this. She couldn't find solace in a friend who had done so much to hurt Harry and Ron in the past. It felt like a betrayal, twisting her gut. "I can't," she shook her head and grabbed the book before hurrying past him and out of sight.

"Hermione-" he tried, but his voice faltered. He stared at the blistered surface of the cabinet, hating himself, knowing what she must be feeling. His hand seized the hideous bust on the top of the cabinet with the urge to smash it into the ground when he saw something else that made his breath catch in his throat.

"Hermione?" he called out, hesitantly. It couldn't be…

He must be imagining it. The hunger was messing with his head. He blinked several times, but it was still there. Almost exactly how he had drawn it.

"Hermione!" he called again, but there was no answer.

He had to touch it, to make sure it was real and not a trick of his imagination. His hand reached out and his fingers touched the tarnished metal surface, tracing the words to the jewel in the center. It felt almost warm under his fingertips and he carefully lifted it down from the shelf, calling for Hermione once more. He rolled it this way and that in his hands, examining every inch of it. If it was the real thing, the actual diadem of Ravenclaw, he had to be sure. He ran his thumb over the jewel again and saw a flash of something, like a dim inner glow. He brought it closer to his face, peering deep into the jewel as if there was something inside of it. The diadem felt so fragile in his hands. _Could this really be a piece of the Dark Lord's soul? _

And then a voice spoke to him from inside his head as he peered into the gem. "Draco Malfoy, my loyal servant," a cold, high pitched voice spoke.

Draco ripped his head back.

"Imagine, Draco, how I will reward you for your service. You alone will be given the highest honor amongst my inner circle. As a young man you have dedicated yourself to my cause, proved time and again your loyalty in the face of treachery. You who managed to evade Dumbledore's wards and sneak Death Eaters into Hogwarts, a feat no other can claim. You, who succeeded despite your father's failure. Your genius has been overshadowed by filthy mudbloods for far too long. Let me show you the true power I can give you."

Draco's felt his hands being drawn to his head, like a puppet on a string.

Images of memories surfaced. The word "mudblood" carved into Hermione's arm. He saw his father writhing and twitching viciously from the cruciatus curse. He saw the dead people the Dark Lord had killed in front of him, eyes glassy and staring at nothing. He knew the truth about who Voldemort really was. He understood full well what reward awaited him for his treachery so far.

His arms struggled as he fought against himself.

"Do not fear. All will be forgiven. I am merciful. Lord Voldemort forgives. You did what you had to do to get the information out of the mudblood girl. You have served me well. You have done better than all my followers. I will give you a place at my side, offer your family wealth, power, and riches in my new world. Your parents will be so proud of you. Everyone will envy you. Let me show you."

His arms shook with the effort to resist. "Hermione!" he shrieked in terror.

The wings of the eagle stretched out, feathers extending like long tendrils. He felt them touch his head. Then the diadem snapped onto his head, sinking its sharp feathers through his hair.

The voice filled his head now, and his own thoughts were ripped away, tearing through his occlumency shields like paper. Images and thoughts whirled around in his head, of things Voldemort wanted him to see. He was the hero who saved the Dark Lord's most treasured secrets. He saw himself at Voldemort's side, honored above all Death Eaters. His most trusted and loyal advisor. The one he trusted above all others. He saw his father's place restored, his mother beaming at him, safe and happy. Nothing was denied him.

Then he heard another voice, faint and weak. "You are wiser than this, Draco. You know that is not the world you want to be a part of. He is trying to corrupt you, like he did my diadem. Resist, Draco. _Resist_. You _know_ he is lying. Remember what he is, what he did. Remember the truth. You know what his world would be like. You cannot give in. You _know_ the truth."

And then Voldemort's voice said, "I see into your mind, Draco. You can have all that you desire. Bring me the girl and I will reward you."

It was agony. The Dark Lord's voice reverberated around his head like a thousand clanging bells. He could feel the Dark Lord's soul scouring his mind, felt it latch onto his body, fighting for dominance, control.

"No," was all he could manage as he writhed on the ground. "No. I won't let you. _I won't let you._"

"Let me?" the voice cackled. "_Let_ me? I am already inside your mind. You are my puppet, Draco. You have already lost."

The cackling became louder, pounding through his head like a stampede of centaurs. It grew louder and louder, his resistance weakening. He was losing control. He was losing. He wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. He was already fading...


	4. Chapter 4: Finding

**Chapter 4: Finding**

Draco blinked rapidly, heart pounding in his chest as his hands reached for his head. But all he felt was his hair.

"You idiot. You stupid _idiot_."

A hand struck him across his face. As his vision came into focus he saw Hermione, lips pressed in anger, her face a blotchy red and still tear-stained.

"I _told_ _you_ what would happen if you touched one! I _told_ _you_ it was dangerous!" She was furious.

He tried to sit up, but she pushed him back down. "No! I don't know what it might have done to you, so lie still until I'm done."

He groaned and tried to sit up anyway. "I'm fine, really."

Her hand shot out and forced him to lie back down with surprising strength. "You don't understand. That thing was physically digging into your skin. I had to use a powerful severing charm to get it off you." She hated herself for it, especially since it was the same spell Harry had almost accidentally killed him with a year previously.

Draco's hand flew to his head again and he could feel the places where the diadem had indeed driven into his scalp. Tenderly, he felt the scar tissue there and groaned. "You gave me bald spots on the sides of my head, Hermione." To his surprise her expression shifted to part smile, part grimace.

"Actually, I had to give you a pretty crude haircut too."

Draco grabbed the sword he had been translating runes off of the other night and drew it to stare at his reflection in the polished metal. "Oh, no!" he moaned in anguish. His hair was a botched hack job on top of everything. He sunk the sword back into its scabbard and threw it aside. "This is a nightmare," he murmured. He covered his head with his hands. "Don't look at me! I'm hideous!"

Hermione giggled despite herself and she saw him peek at her from under his arms and smirk at her.

"I think it's an improvement if you ask me. Makes you look less like an arrogant sod."

"You wound me, Hermione." He put his arms down, a tired smile on his face as he let Hermione continue running diagnostic spells on him.

Even though the horcrux was in her bag, safely stowed away, she felt nervous. She asked him questions, trying to verify that he wasn't under Voldemort's control.

She had panicked when she found him on the floor, thrashing violently with the horcrux digging into his head. It had been so similar to what the locket had done with Harry after their encounter with Nagini. She had heard him calling her name, but it wasn't until she heard the screaming and thrashing about that she had come dashing back down the stacks to find him. Instinct had kicked in, or perhaps it was memory, and she was pinning him down and casting a severing charm before she realized it. Her hands had shook the entire time she applied dittany to the wound and she had smeared his platinum blonde hair with blood in her haste. The wounds had not been deep, luckily, and she had been able to heal them completely with a few spells. He didn't even need a blood replenishing potion, for which she was thankful. She didn't have a potion or the ingredients to make one on the fly.

She had levitated him back to the camp and set him on the cot so she could examine him further. Once again she cursed Hogwarts for neglecting to teach her healing magic. All she did know came from a book she had borrowed from Mrs. Weasley titled _A Mother's Mending Manual for Minor Injuries _about healing minor cuts, bruises, scrapes, sprains, and aches. The diagnostic spell was one she knew from Madam Pomfrey after her unfortunately longer stays in the hospital wing. Beyond that she was rather limited and she hated herself for that. Afterwards she had performed a cleaning charm to get most of the blood and dittany off his hair and scalp.

It had been an odd experience for her, healing him. She had always known him to be pale, blond, and tall; that was a given. But since they had been together in this room she had noticed a gauntness in his cheeks and the dark circles under his eyes that never quite seemed to go away. Up close she had seen the creases already lining his forehead. She had felt the glamour he wore to cover his scars fade as she examined him with her diagnostic spell, laying his chest bare to check his vitals. Deep slashes from his duel with Harry last year. From a spell he had read in the book next to her. And there was the proof in front of her that she and her friends were not guiltless in this war. If not for Snape, she was certain Draco would have bled out in minutes with gashes like that.

Draco realized his shirt was unbuttoned and looked down at the sight of his scars with a furious grimace. "Enjoying the view?" his voice was cold and his steel grey eyes stared at her defiantly. Resisting the urge to look away ashamed and embarrassed she met his gaze and held it. "My mother cringes every time she sees them. So I hide them. I've gotten pretty good at hiding my scars," he added coolly, and she knew he was talking about the ones on his wrist covering the dark mark.

"You're not the only one with scars," she remarked, her voice steady.

His chest rose and fell and he snarled at her, annoyed. "Not ones you've had to hide."

A dark look fell across her face and her hands moved so fast he flinched, thinking she might hit him again. Instead, she tugged down the collar of her shirt, stretching the fabric as far as it would go and at first he thought for a wild moment she was showing him her cleavage, but she scratched her fingers down to her sternum and he saw a glamour fade to reveal a thick purple scar that ran in a jagged line down beneath her shirt.

"I do know. I know quite well what it's like to hide scars from my parents. Because if they knew I had this, they never would have let me return to Hogwarts. So don't try to lecture me, Draco." She released her neckline and waved her hand to restore the glamour.

They stared hard at one another. In their silence a thousand unspoken things passed between them and an understanding was reached.

Draco was the first to look away, nodding at her wand hand as she checked his vitals once more. Other than a slightly elevated heart rate, he was fine. "You know, if you wanted to see me without my shirt, all you had to do was ask," he joked, plopping himself down on his pile of cushions once Hermione had cleared him.

Hermione rolled her eyes and busied herself with making tea. He would still need to replenish his fluids, although Hermione took the fact that he was joking with her as a good sign.

He picked up the bent spoon he ate with and stared at himself in the back of it, looking at his shredded hair. He sighed. It was going to take some time getting it right again. "Hermione, you've ruined my perfect locks."

She handed him a cup of tea with a slightly irritable expression on her face. "Guess it's a good thing you pull off a wig."

He grinned and shrugged. "I dunno. Personally, I think I look better in the bonnet."

She choked on her tea and he grinned devilishly as he took a sip of his own.

He waited until she got up to go grab a book to roll up his left sleeve. The serpent, which usually partially protruded from the skull had left its home entirely and twisted itself around his forearm. He knew what it meant. And he didn't have long unless he could quickly find a way to stop it.

* * *

Hermione woke up to the sounds of thrashing and saw Draco writhing and twisting in his sleep, a pained expression pinching his face. She knelt beside him and shook his shoulder gently. "Wake up."

His eyes flashed open and he sucked in air in ragged breaths.

"Stay still," she told him as she pulled out Greyback's wand and ran the diagnostic spell over him. His heart rate was elevated and strained and she looked at him with concern.

"I'm fine-" he gasped, trying to get his voice steady. But then a fresh wave of pain pulsed from the point on his left arm and he clutched it, hissing.

"Move your hand," she ordered, but he was reluctant to do so and instead gripped it tighter.

"I told you, I'm-"

She jabbed the tip of the wand under his chin. "Move. Your. Hand."

She spoke with deadly determination and he followed her command, knowing full well she would stun him and do it by force if she had to.

Pulling back his sweat-soaked sleeve she examined his arm. Her eyes followed the serpent wrapped around his forearm. It was wrong. The skull and the serpent were no longer connected. "What does it mean?"

Draco bit his lip. "It's his failsafe for making sure Death Eaters obey. If we disobey an order or try to defect he can use it to stop us."

"He can use it to control you?" she asked in a horrified whisper.

He shook his head. "He can use it to kill me."

Her eyes widened in alarm. "What?" she breathed, panicking. "No. That can't be."

"It is."

"Then we'll find a way to stop it. How long do we have?" There was a hard edge to her voice.

"Maybe a week. Most likely a few days. He would want it to slow me down so he could find me and finish me off on his own terms. It's what happened to Karkaroff." Hermione listened intently as he told her about the blood magic involved in the marking. She asked him questions, mentally taking notes all the while. When he had finished she was quiet, deep in thought.

Springing to her feet excitedly, she held up her finger as thoughts began to coalesce in her mind, already jogging backwards. "I have an idea," was all she said before she ran in the direction of the book stacks.

She came back several minutes later with a sack slung over one shoulder, flipping through the book in her arms with astonishing haste. Before long she had assembled several peculiar items around them, including seven large gemstones, old quills, a bottle of firewhiskey, a bottle of wine, a dead potted plant, and a small roll of parchment which she had written on. She also handed him a paintbrush she had transfigured from a fork and the bottle of wine, pointing to a diagram in the open book and then to a space she had made in the middle of their camp. The gemstones were placed in a large circle. Uncorking the bottle, Hermione showed him a diagram on one of the open pages and told him to paint it on the ground.

"Druid magic?" he asked, glancing at the front cover, being careful to keep one hand on the page as he did so.

"Yes. It's an old ritual that's supposed to contain dark magic. The druids used it to contain all sorts of magical ills that could affect the body, including infections from curses, poisons, and diseases like spattergroit."

Draco raised a skeptical brow, but was willing to try anything. He trusted her. After all, she was the smartest witch in their year.

Once again she tried to shove the wine bottle into his hand. "You're better at drawing than I am. Do you think you can match these symbols inside the circle of stones?"

Draco held up the wine, swirling its contents and inspecting it closely and realized she had turned it into ink. "Yeah. No problem." And he set to work.

Hermione walked around the circle, laying the feathers in certain spots and sprinkling dirt from the potted plant into the shape indicated in the book. Then she placed the blue fire in the jar at the very center, opening the lid off the top and fanning it. Satisfied, she consulted the text once more to make sure the symbols Draco had drawn were correct before she handed him the bottle of firewhiskey. "Drink this."

He raised an eyebrow. "Trying to get me drunk now?" he joked, but he uncorked the bottle and took a swig. "How much of it?"

"As much as you need." She had a worried look, which did not make him feel reassured. "This is blood magic too. I can't promise it won't hurt."

"And I suppose a numbing jinx is out of the question?"

Hermione nodded. "The spell is in your blood. I don't think it would help."

He frowned, but took a large gulp of the firewhiskey; it burned through him and he took another. Once he had finished off a good portion he set the bottle aside, clapping his hands together. "Where do you want me?"

She pointed to the center. "And Draco..." He paused, noting the smirk on her face. "Take off your shirt."

"Thought you'd never ask," he replied with a grin, unbuttoning it and shrugging it off. He arranged himself as instructed, leaving his palms up to the ceiling. The rise and fall of his chest gave away his nerves as Hermione sat next to him, painting the last of the symbols around his arm, encircling the two components of the Dark Mark.

"I'm really sorry, Draco, but in order to perform this ritual I'll need to temporarily paralyze you and then cut you."

He nodded, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself. If he could survive taking the Dark Mark, he could handle this.

She muttered the spell and Draco's body froze; only his chest moved to keep air in his lungs. Hermione took a knife and carefully put it to his skin, carving seven symbols around his arm just below the elbow. She kept her eyes on the task in front of her, gritting her teeth to keep her hands from shaking. She had to get the symbols right or it would all be for nothing. A gurgling, choking sound came from his throat, but she knew that if she looked at him she would lose her resolve. She had to do this. She had to. Thin lines of blood dripped from the symbols and she dipped the tip of the bloody knife into the fire beside her.

It flared up, glowing a dark purple color. Hurriedly, she read the words on the roll of parchment and dropped it into the purple flames. The painted symbols around her glowed a deep purple as well and the dirt rose from the ground, circling around them as it was sucked into the flames. The fire flared once more, the feathers rose into the air as well, and the gemstones shook as if the still floor beneath them quaked.

With a final flash the fire and the symbols on Draco's arm glowed with a blinding brilliant light before sinking into his skin, leaving his arms clean and bare. Hermione watched with bated breath as an ornate purple chain of fluttering symbols pulled the snake back into the mouth of the skull and linked it there before encircling the reformed mark completely. The purple chain froze and sealed itself to his skin, vanishing, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Pointing her wand at Draco, she released the spell and he sat up, staring down at his forearm.

"Did it work?" he asked nervously.

"I think so," Hermione said, beaming at him.

"It doesn't even hurt," he remarked. "I think you really did it."

"We both did it."

"Oh, take the compliment, Hermione," he snapped.

She shook her head at him, smiling. "I couldn't have done it without your help."

"Nonsense. Brightest witch of our year," he smirked.

Hermione blushed and looked down, still in disbelief that the spell had actually worked.

Draco felt the urge to reach up and brush his fingers against her blushing cheeks. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to show her how much she meant to him. He wanted to show her how grateful he was to have her there by his side. He caught her hand as she made to stand and kissed the back of her hand. "Thank you, Hermione," the taste of her name linger on his tongue even after he had released her hand.

Her blush deepened and she shook her head, standing up just a little too quickly and throwing herself slightly off balance. "Go put your shirt on, Draco," she said once she had recovered herself.

He had been a little disgruntled at that, although his smile never left his face as she strode away, cleaning up the leftover quills and such with a wave from the wand in her hand. A strong part of him had been enjoying a brief fantasy where he pulled her down flush against his chest for a good, proper kiss, but he knew that now was not the time. Not to mention she would probably curse him with something wicked if he did. Shaking his head, he got up and slipped on his shirt.

Hermione replaced the remaining items she had gathered to their original locations before approaching him again. "I'm glad that the spell worked, but we need to talk about something. Do you think _he _knows we have one of the horcruxes? I mean, how did he know to activate the curse from your mark?"

Draco wished that he was more certain than he actually was. "I think, that part of him, his soul, in the horcrux… it was like he could see into my mind. And he kept showing me things, things I could have if I betrayed you to him and returned the horcrux." He felt hot shame coloring his face. "But I refused, I tried to fight him. He tried to take control of me. I think that activated it. Or maybe when you were trying to remove it the piece of his soul initiated the curse. I'm not quite positive." He paused. "And I think that if he did know we had found a horcrux, neither of us would be here now."

Hermione nodded, but didn't look entirely convinced.

"But at least we have one. Now all we need is the cup and a way to destroy them." He tried to sound more confident than he felt.

"I suppose that's true, we do have one. Perhaps we should talk about what our next steps should be." Hermione was relieved when they were both of the opinion that it was better to destroy the diadem before they went looking for the cup. They had already decided that Nagini would have to be last.

When they had talked over all the possible ways to destroy it five times over they reached an impasse. No matter what option they chose, they would need to leave the Room of Requirement.

"We have the cloak," Hermione stated.

"We need to know what it's like out there first. For all we know there could be someone just outside."

Hermione wished that she had the Marauder's Map with her. But Harry had kept that on his person.

"Hermione," Draco pressed again, rubbing the back of his neck. "One of us is going to need to go out there and see what's going on. Let me take the cloak and you can stay here and make sure no one else gets into the room except for me."

She opened her mouth to argue and he raised his hand. "It should be me. If anything happens to me, you will still be safe with the horcrux. No one should be able to get in or out."

She knew he was doing this in some hairbrained plan to be noble and keep her protected, but she was just as capable as he was. Pointing this out to him didn't deter him from other reasons why it should be him sneaking around and not her.

"How are we even supposed to figure out what's outside this room?" he asked.

Hermione had thought about that. They didn't have access to the radio or the newspapers in this room and no way of contacting people on the outside without putting them at risk if the message were intercepted. Reluctantly, Hermione told him about Phineas Nigellus's portrait.

"My grandfather?" he asked, surprised. It wasn't exactly true, as Phineas was from several generations back in the family tree, but he had passed the portrait of his ancestor in Malfoy Manor and even spoken to him. The old man had taken a liking to Draco, telling him that he saw great potential in him, and had told him to call him grandfather. He had always been keen to offer advice too.

Hermione forgot that technically Draco must be related to Phineas Nigellus somehow through his mother's line, as she was born into the Black family.

"Yes. I have his portrait and he has another hanging up in the headmaster's office."

"He has one at my home too. It would be a good way to find out what's going on."

Hermione looked doubtful.

"We can trust him."

"Fine. But we're going to play this off like I'm holding you hostage. So not a word from you, understand?"

Draco scowled, but marched over to the desk and sat on top of it so he would be out of sight.

Hermione pulled out the portrait of Phineas Nigelus and set it on the ground. "Professor Black?" she called in a careful whisper. "Professor Black, could you please come out?"

"Please always helps, Miss Granger." It was an improvement over 'mudblood.' He still had the black blindfold stuck over his eyes. "I have to say, I'm surprised to hear you're alive. I had worried after what happened at Malfoy Manor. Your situation seemed quite dire."

The color drained from her face. "How-?"

"Your screams were quite loud my dear. And Bellatrix is not a quiet creature either when her mania sets in."

Hermione cringed. "What do you know?"

He raised an eyebrow at her and kept his mouth shut.

She remembered how much he enjoyed making people wait. "Please, Professor Black, could you tell me what happened?"

"Hard to say. Someone attached this wretched blindfold to my eyes, so I haven't _seen_ much of anything for a while. But I heard Bellatrix screaming at you as she tortured you. Did she spill your dirty blood all over the carpets? It would be a shame, they've been in the family for generations."

She waited, ignoring the taunt.

"Well, after the filthy wolf dragged you off the Dark Lord came and killed your friends. Even the goblin. He went on a bit of a frenzy after that. Potter dead, prophecies fulfilled, oh I got an earful at the revels after that. And then at Hogwarts there have been some staffing changes and new rules put in place. Mudbloods and blood traitors are being hunted down right and left. Hogwarts has more Death Eaters than most any other place right now. Except perhaps the Ministry of Magic. Seems like everyone is either working for him now one way or another."

Her heart hammered in her chest. She reminded herself that she needed to stay calm. She had to know what was happening. "Professor Black, what about the students at Hogwarts?"

He perked up. It seemed he liked being in a position where he held privileged information. "Oh, the castle is still running if that's what you're asking. A few more months and there won't be any teachers left who aren't hand selected by Professor Snape or the Dark Lord. Most of the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix are dead." He waved the thought away as if it were a boring add-on.

"Who? Please, Professor Black, who-"

"Tell me what's become of my grandson and I'll answer your question." He frowned.

Hermione bit her lip. "He's fine. Now tell me who from the Order is still alive."

"Prove he's alive first."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the painting, but waved Draco over.

Phineas's head twitched back and forth, his ears straining.

"Say something," she commanded, trying to make her voice seem tougher.

"Sod off, mudblood," he swore.

She glared at him, and he made an apologetic face, but she waved it away dismissively, turning back to the portrait. "There. He's alive."

Phineas nodded his head and said, "I don't know everything. But most of the blood traitor Weasleys are still kicking and in hiding from what I've gathered. Severus Snape is still alive and at Hogwarts…"

Her heart froze in her throat as she listened, trying not to let the news get to her when she heard that Remus Lupin had been killed, Percy was being held hostage, Lee Jordan had been found and killed for creating Potterwatch, Luna's father had been killed by Rowle when he attempted to rescue his daughter, several Abbotts had been killed in a raid, Madame Maxine was on the run with Hagrid and his brother and had managed to kill a Death Eater, and several former muggleborn students had been killed trying to resist being taken to Azkaban.

She wanted to cry, but she knew she had to hear this. She had to know. Phineas came to a stopping point after that, a heavy and labored sigh passing through him. He rubbed at his wrinkled brow before straightening up. "Where is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named now? What is he doing?"

Phineas shook his head. "Now, now, Miss Granger. I've given you more than enough for now. Tell me about my grandson's condition. What have you done to him? Is he in pain?" He twisted his fingers nervously.

Hermione glanced at Draco. "He's fine-"

"I want to hear it from him!"

Hermione nodded to Draco and she said, "Tell Professor Black how you're doing."

"Oh, bloody fantastic. Never better," he drolled sarcastically.

"There. He's fine. Now tell me what You-Know-Who is up to."

Phineas licked his lips nervously. "More have flocked to his cause now that the Potter boy is dead. Muggle killings are pure sport now. He found Potter's muggle relatives and killed them personally. Giants attacked several small villages in France and there's been reports that he's recruiting more followers abroad. And-" he hesitated, wavering. "And he's looking for you. My grandson's parents are desperate to have their son returned to them. But the Dark Lord is less concerned with my grandson's safe return. He just wants you dead."

"You are not to tell the Dark Lord or any of his Death Eaters a word about this. If I so much as hear one word otherwise I will start cutting away bits and pieces of Mr. Malfoy here. Do we understand one another?" Even she was surprised at the easy threatening tone of her voice.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing.

Phineas nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes, we do."

"Good. I will call you further if I have need of information, Professor Black." He opened and closed his mouth several times like a gasping fish before he nodded fervently and Hermione slipped the portrait back in her bag. Hermione's teeth worried at her lip as Draco sat next to her.

He looked green after hearing about his parents and the other dead members. He had secretly liked Remus Lupin a great deal when he was a teacher at Hogwarts. "Hermione-"

"He doesn't know you helped me. Or at least he isn't certain of it, I think. From the sound of things, the main theory is that I kidnapped you and I'm holding you hostage."

"But they don't know that for certain. You heard him, if Voldemort doesn't care about keeping up the pretense of getting me back safely, it's because he suspects me." Draco sunk his hands into white blond hair.

Tentatively, Hermione put her hand over his shoulder in a comforting gesture. "But now he'll have reason to suspect otherwise. Now that Phineas knows it will get out that I'm keeping you as my prisoner."

"You told Phineas not to tell-"

"-Voldemort or Death Eaters. And I'm sure Phineas read between the lines and is on his way to tell your mother what he heard."

Draco's lips parted in astonishment as realization dawned on him. "Because my mother is not a Death Eater." He leaned back and gave Hermione an appraising look. "You can be quite cunning when you want to be, Hermione. It's very Slytherin of you."

She rolled her eyes, patting him on the back as he rose to make tea after her belly growled. "And thank you for being such a lovely hostage."

"Anytime," he said with a mischievous grin that earned him another eye roll.

"At least it sounds like he still doesn't know about the horcruxes. Otherwise he would have all his Death Eaters out looking for me. Or he would be out himself, instead of recruiting internationally."

Draco nodded solemnly.

"And we know that Hogwarts is now swarming with Death Eaters."

"I guess we know who's going out there then."

They both nodded in agreement before their expressions changed to grimaces.

"Why do I have a feeling we're not in agreement at all?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

He groaned. "Hermione. You're not going. You just heard, he's after you. And this place is full of Death Eaters who would love nothing more than to catch you!"

She bawled up her hands into fists. "Exactly! And what would happen if they found you, wandering around Hogwarts? They'll think I have you hostage and you've escaped and it won't take them long to find me after they find you. Besides, I've fought Death Eaters before, I've snuck around the castle invisible before and I know how to break into the private store rooms in the potions dungeons. Plus, I know how to get into the kitchens to steal more food. I'm just as capable as you are. I can handle myself out there. You don't need to keep up this white knight charade. I'm going. It will be alright. Trust me." She planted herself firmly with her hands on her hips and he pouted, shrugging his shoulders as he relented.

"Fine," he said, rubbing his face. He scribbled down several additional ingredients on the list they had been working on for their first reconnaissance mission.

"What are these for?" she asked, frowning at the list.

"Additional ingredients for a spell I want to try with the time turner."

She nodded and stashed it in her pocket as she took out the cloak. Draco walked her to the far wall where a door appeared.

He paused, barring her exit with his hand on the door knob. "Please be safe out there."

She smiled and nodded reassuringly as she slipped out the door.

His heart thudded in his chest as the door swung shut without a sound and transformed back into flat stone wall.

It was pure torture, waiting for her to return. Seconds stretched into an eternity as Draco paced up and down in front of the blank stone wall. He had tried distracting himself, had tried to read more about spells that might help him repair the time turner, but after re-reading the same sentence seven times over he pushed it aside with a grimace and resumed pacing. He practiced his occlumency skills as he did so, trying to put up walls and clear his mind of pervasive thoughts, but he was too panicked to actually do so. Worried, pessimistic thoughts ran rampant through his head.

If all went well she should be back within an hour. He cast a quick tempus charm for the fifth time and saw that an hour and ten minutes had elapsed. He was starting to panic. Should he leave to go look for her? How would he even find her if she was invisible? Had she run into one of the Carrows or another Death Eater?

An hour and fifteen minutes had passed and his anxiety was at a breaking point when the stretch of wall formed a door and it opened. The door vanished again and Hermione pulled off the cloak, a bit out of breath.

"What the bloody hell happened out there?!"

Hermione wiped sweat from her brow and grinned at him, opening her bag. "Stop worrying, Draco. I'm fine."

"Why are you late?"

Hermione was already brushing past him back to their campsite, shoving the invisibility cloak inside her bag as she did so. "I had to avoid patrol squads. Apparently some students are still rebelling against the regime," she said with a grin.

She had passed a large swath of wall on the second floor that read "Dumbledore's Army: Still Recruiting."

Draco's expression soured when he heard about Death Eaters patrolling the castle at night. That would greatly limit future excursions. But he was eager to hear more, so he sat down and listened as Hermione told him how it had gone.

It hadn't been too difficult for her to get into the dungeons, although she's had to hide from the Bloody Baron at one point. She had slipped into the potion's classroom and Slughorn's private stores easily enough, as Slughorn was a deep sleeper who snored like a freight train.

As she told him this she pulled various vials and containers out of her bag. "You were right, unfortunately. There was no sign of the acromantula venom, even in his personal store. So we'll have to try getting into the Chamber of Secrets."

Draco chewed his lip, crestfallen. He had hoped he was wrong. It would have been easier, even if it was a longshot.

"But I managed to get everything else on the list, including…"

She pulled out a large sack and the smell of roast chicken hit him like a fist. His hands were ripping open the sack before she could say anything else and with a flick of his wand the entire spread was laid out before them. There was a whole roast chicken, warm bread, garlic mashed potatoes, a honeyed ham, an assortment of cooked vegetables, a jar of jam, an entire cauldron of stew, a mountain of pastries, and three flasks of pumpkin juice.

Hermione giggled at his expression; he looked like he might weep.

"How did you manage to get all this?"

With a shrug she said, "Dobby really liked Harry and he's been a good friend to us over the years. I was able to get him alone in a corner of the kitchens and he smuggled me some food. He's been very generous too, it seems."

Draco froze, his fingers inches away from a drumstick. "My old house elf gave you all this?"

She looked surprised. "Yes. He works down in the kitchens with the other house elves. He cried for a good ten minutes or so when he saw me, which is another reason why it took so long to get back, but I spoke with him and he's willing to bring us more food if we get low again."

"Does he know some of the food is for me?"

"Yes, which is why I told him he could poison the chicken," she said with a scowl.

Draco's pulled back his hand.

"Relax. I'm only joking." Although her tone was far from humorous.

"Did he say anything about me? When you told him?"

Hermione reached for the bread and tore off a chunk. "He told me your family isn't very nice. But I knew that already. And he told me not to trust you. But nothing other than that."

Draco was quiet for a long minute. He didn't touch the food. "Is he happier now?"

Hermione wasn't quite sure how to respond.

"Nevermind. I suppose he must be. We were horrible to him." Draco averted his eyes from her and the generous mass of food.

Hermione surveyed him carefully as she swallowed her bite. "He's happier now. But he's mourning Harry. He was quite fond of him."

"Potter was in your spew thing, wasn't he?"

"S.P.E.W. The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. And yes, but he and Ron didn't actually care for it much, so it was mostly me." A part of her was surprised that Draco remembered the name of the club, much less its existence.

"You care more than most people."

It wasn't that far from the truth. Hermione remembered the other students' disinterest whenever she had tried to get them to join. But she knew of one other person who had cared more than she had.

"Not more than everyone." She pulled her bag over to herself and opened it, summoning the letter she kept tucked away. Unfolding it carefully, she showed the letter to Draco. She hadn't gone into much detail about Kreacher and Regulus Black when she had told him about the locket. But now she told him the full story.

"You're saying my cousin did all this because Voldemort poisoned his house elf?" He seemed incredulous as Hermione snatched the note back from him.

"I don't know exactly _why _he did it. But I know he gave his life instead of forcing a house elf to drink poison for him," she snapped. Her eyes traced the words written on the note once more. "And I know he became disillusioned enough to sacrifice himself in the hopes of defeating him." She carefully folded up the note and put it back in her bag.

A part of her wished she could have met Regulus, had known the person. She wondered if he would have joined S.P.E.W. had they been at school together, or if he, like Draco, would have scoffed at her.

"My mother was close with him, you know, before he died. She thought he had been killed by someone from the Order. She didn't like to talk about him much. It always made her sad. He was really young when he died."

Hermione said nothing, focusing on the bread in her hands instead.

"I know it may not count for much now, but if you see Dobby again, please give him my thanks."

Hermione paused in her chewing, but nodded. "Eat something already. It won't stay warm for long."

Draco obliged, although his feelings of guilt did not disappear.

They feasted until their bellies were full and they could not manage to take another bite. Hermione was able to preserve most of the food in a charmed trunk that she converted into something like an ice box.

After that she separated herself from Draco to read a stack of books, but they both knew it was an excuse to put some distance between them. Draco, even if he was trying to be a better person, still had some of his prejudices ingrained in him and Hermione had not appreciated his condescension towards Regulus's sacrifice for Kreacher.

She had tried to ask Kreacher about Regulus after Harry had given him the fake horcrux locket. But he had been slow to warm up to her, still muttering "mudblood" every so often under his breath. By the time she had made enough progress to ask him again, he had listed some of his achievements at school and then burst into tears. She had avoided bringing up the subject after that, feeling guilty.

She wondered where Kreacher was now and if he was alright. She hated the idea of him being cooped up in Grimmauld Place by himself. But it was entirely possible he was with Bellatrix now. She didn't know exactly how house elves were passed on through the family, and since Harry had died, she supposed he must have gone back to the Black family. She would ask Draco about it later, but for now she needed space.

With a full belly, Draco felt content in a way he hadn't for days. He studied the ingredients Hermione had stolen and carefully measured them out into the quantities he needed. Using magical ingredients in spells required less precision than it did in potions, but he wanted to be sure he could still have enough for further attempts if the first one didn't go well. The spell was actually a combination of the containment ritual Hermione had performed on him and a stabilization spell of his own design from working on the Vanishing Cabinet. With a steady hand he drew the symbols and arranged the items, placing the time turner still in its box in the very center. He triple-checked his work and started the spell. A minute later there was a flash of light and the symbols had created a linked seal around the crack in the glass. After a brief series of tests, he smiled at it triumphantly, picking it up out of the case. The sand stayed inside, floating serenely.

* * *

The next morning Hermione handed Draco a cup of tea and a pastry and said, "I need to ask you about something."

"If it's about my hair, it's genetic and no potion can replicate its perfection."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "This is important. What do you know about the ownership of house elves? Specifically, what happens if someone passes away and they didn't leave behind a will explicitly saying who the elf should pass to?"

He could tell from the concerned look in her eye that now was not the time for jokes. "Well… typically, if the current owner passes without a will in place, all property rights pass to the next of kin."

"And if there isn't any next of kin?"

The frantic look in her eyes worried him. "Tell me what this is about, Hermione."

"Kreacher. He was given to Harry when Sirius passed and now that Harry is gone, I'm worried that he might have passed to Bellatrix."

Draco thought about it. "With no living members of the Potter family, the house elf's ownership would revert back to the next descendant of the previous family. The Black family. Which means…"

Hermione's eyes widened in horror. "Bellatrix?"

Draco nodded. "Oh this is bad. This is very, very bad."

"Why? What is it?"

"Kreacher knew we were searching for the horcruxes. He knew we were looking for the locket. If Bellatrix gets that information out of him…"

"We'd better check with my grandfather," Draco said hurriedly.

Hermione nodded and after a brief discussion she pulled out the portrait. "Professor Black, I'd like a word with you."

Phineas Nigellus pushed his way into the portrait, panting slightly. "I'm here. I'm here. Is my grandson okay?"

"He's fine, Professor Black."

"I want-"

"I know, I know."

She looked at Draco who said, "I'm here, grandfather. You needn't worry."

Phineas nodded and said, "Good, good. Miss Granger, I've spoken with Narcissa, the boy's mother-"

"I told you not speak to Death Eaters-"

"But Narcissa is not one of them. She is not a Death Eater, she just wants her son back!"

"I'm sure she does. But I'm going to need information first."

Phineas nodded again and said, "Let me talk to her for just a minute." Hermione acquiesced and Phineas left the portrait for a brief moment before hurrying back. "She'll tell you whatever you want to know."

"I want to know if Bellatrix has a house elf named Kreacher."

He nodded and waddled out of the frame. A moment later he was back. "She says she does. She says to tell you that they raided 12 Grimmauld Place again and Bellatrix used Kreacher for information. She says to tell you that the Dark Lord thinks you have his locket and that's why he's after you."

Hermione and Draco locked eyes as a chill swept down their spines.

"Please, give Narcissa her son back. The Dark Lord will not care if he gets caught in the crossfire. Draco is her only child, please understand, she is desperate for his return."

"Draco is safe for now-"

"Are you listening to me, girl! The Dark Lord is after you both. I heard Draco worrying about you last night. I know you're working together on something. Draco, please, leave this mudblood-"

"Shut up!" Draco hissed angrily. He had been sitting on the desk, but now he was standing, his hands balled into fists. "Tell my mother I'm fine, but I'm going to need her help. Tell her I've chosen my side."

Phineas looked like he wanted to argue, but turned in his frame to leave.

"Wait!" Draco called. Phineas turned back, one hand on the frame. "Tell her Regulus died a good man."

Phineas froze for a moment. Hermione thought he was going to yell at Draco the way he opened and closed his mouth several times. When he did speak, his voice shook, not with rage, but with repressed anguish.

"I'll do that. Take care of yourself, Draco."

"I will."

After a long sniff he left the frame.

Hermione quickly stowed the portrait back in the beaded bag. "Draco-"

"Save it, Hermione." He knew full well that she was going to try to talk him out of helping her. Now that they knew Voldemort was after her and that she had a horcrux and was probably looking for more of them, anyone with her faced mortal peril. "I'm with you until it's over, one way or another. I've made my decision." He stood firmly, resolute, knowing full well what it meant.

A tear slid from Hermione's eye as she remembered her own declaration to Harry months ago. "Thank you," she breathed, and before he had a second to react she threw her arms around him in a tight embrace.

Uncertain, he hesitated briefly before returning the hug, clutching her small frame to him. When she released him he cleared his throat and said, "We should talk about accelerating our plan."

Hermione nodded and they sat down to discuss it.

"I think we need to try getting into the Chamber of Secrets tonight. And when I say we, I mean I should be the one to do it."

"Draco-"

He held up his hand. "No. No, listen. I had a thought. You said that Harry found out about the basilisk and went to the bathroom with Lockhart. Well, what if Elizabeth remembers what Harry said? Or even if what Riddle said right before he opened it and released the basilisk before it killed her?"

Hermione gave him a skeptical look, but he continued.

"And once I get in I can grab a fang or seven and be out before you know it."

"Harry had a phoenix fly him out of there. How are you going to do it?"

"Fly, of course. There are some brooms back there. I'll grab one and bring it with me. It should be in and out, one hour tops."

Hermione's lips were pressed together in her 'it might work, but I still don't like it' face that Draco had grown used to after all their planning conversations.

"And another thing. I think I've stabilized the time turner. At least it shouldn't leak time magic everywhere if we try it out. I'm still not sure if will work like it's supposed to, but it does mean that we have a backup option if things don't go to plan." He handed her the time turner and she looked at it, surprise flitting across her face.

"You used the containment spell from the ritual?"

"What can I say? You inspired me," he grinned.

She made a face in an effort to hide her smile, but as she looked at the time turner she murmured, "Brilliant."

"Thanks. It's still cracked and I don't know if that affects the magic of it, so I'm still going to try and find a way to repair it in my spare time. But you should hold on to it until I get back."

"You're going _now_?" she asked, aghast.

He smirked. "There won't be Death Eaters roaming about during daylight hours, right? Besides, everyone will be in class and I'll be invisible. Okay?"

Hermione paled, but nodded. "Fine. But here: take this too." She reached inside her bag and handed the invisibility cloak and Harry's firebolt to him. A part of her hoped Harry wasn't watching her from the afterlife as she handed his prized possessions over to his former enemy.

Draco stared at the firebolt in astonishment. "Are you sure? I mean, if Potter knew-"

"I'm sure."

He nodded respectfully, accepting the objects with great care.


	5. Chapter 5: An Old Friend

**Chapter 5: An Old Friend**

Draco checked his tempus charm just before leaving the room and knew he was right in the middle of morning classes. He took a deep breath and nodded to Hermione before he went out the door.

Carefully, he snuck down to the second floor under the cloak. He rounded a corner and there in the middle of the hallway between him and the girl's bathroom was Mrs. Norris. She stared at exactly where he was standing and his heart caught in his throat. He wondered if the cloak worked on animals. He saw her sniff the air and look back at him, her eyes searching to either side of him as well. With a flick of his wand he cast a silent sleeping spell on her. She blinked sleepily and moved over into an alcove where a shaft of light was spilling down onto the stone floor and curled up for a nap.

Releasing a sigh, Draco snuck past her and entered the girl's bathroom. After removing the cloak, he locked the door and sealed it with magic, adding a quick silencing charm too just in case, and scanned the room. It was in a truly deplorable state: a broken stall door hung off its hinges, the sinks were all cracked or chipped, rust stains ran down the faucets, and the rest of it looked like a burglary had been clumsily cleaned up. It took every bit of will power for him not to turn around and leave.

He took a step inside and called, "Elizabeth? Are you here?"

A pale ghostly figure stepped through one of the stall doors in surprise.

"Draco? I haven't seen you in ages!" she cried, swooping up and down to hover in front of him, grinning.

He smiled at her. "I know. It's been a while. How are you holding up?"

She bobbed up and down, making a series of dramatic faces as she gestured around the crime scene of a bathroom. "As well as can be expected when no one visits me."

Draco pretended to give an appraising look around the bathroom. "I've never been here before, but you said I could visit whenever I wanted to see you…"

She practically beamed at his words. "I knew you'd come back."

He flashed his teeth at her. "You were a good friend when I really needed one. And you saved my life."

She blushed and made a swiping gesture with her hand.

"I haven't forgotten, you know."

"Oh, enough flattery, Draco. What do you want? Surely you didn't come all the way down here just to say hello."

He chuckled. She was smarter than most people realized. He took a breath and explained. "Elizabeth, I need your help. It's about the Chamber of Secrets. I know that Potter, Weasley, and Lockhart got in during my second year and I think there's something down there that will help me."

"Ooooooo. Another secret mission, Draco? I do hope you're not still working for that evil man." She scrunched up her face. She knew now that it had been Tom Riddle who had let the basilisk out the first time. Even if the snake was the one who killed her, it was because of Riddle.

Draco remembered the times she had told him to stop, but he had been terrified that the Dark Lord would kill him if he failed. He hadn't had a choice. "I'm trying to stop him, actually. And I think you can help me do it. What do you say? Want to help me take down the man who murdered you?"

Her eyes sparkled as she smiled and nodded her head eagerly. She came closer to him so they could speak conspiratorially.

"When Potter opened the Chamber of Secrets last he said something in Parseltongue. I think that must have been what Riddle said too. And that phrase or sound opens the entrance. Do you remember what they said?"

She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "I can try."

Draco took a step back as she approached one of the sinks and made some odd sounds.

After a few minutes nothing had happened and she looked back at Draco, tears in her eyes. "It's not working. I can't quite get it right."

Draco nodded. "That's okay. I knew it would be hard to remember off the bat. Can I try a spell that might help?"

She nodded, although she looked nervous as he pulled out his wand.

"I'm going to try and look into your mind. Picture the memory in your head for me, okay?"

She nodded, closing her eyes.

He pointed his wand. "Legilimens!"

He saw it right away. Harry, much younger, was leaning by the sink, next to Ron Weasley and Lockhart, trying to say something. "English," Ron said from beside him, shaking his head. Harry turned back and tried again. A high hissing sound came from his mouth this time. They all leapt back as the sink disappeared and a large hole opened up. Locking onto the sound, he broke the spell.

She opened her eyes. "Did you see it?"

He nodded and stepped towards the sink. Replaying the scene in his head, he mimicked the hissing sound he had heard Potter use in the memory. To his surprise, it worked the first time and he jumped back as the sink disappeared, leaving a gaping hole in the center.

Clutching the broomstick tightly in hand he took a deep breath and slid inside. He would have liked to have said he enjoyed the ride, found it to be a bit of a laugh, really. But in reality he was utterly terrified as a thousand fearful thoughts ran through his head. What if the slide had collapsed up ahead? What if he got there and found out that the basilisk wasn't actually dead? What if it had millions of babies hiding down there ready to eat him? What if the Dark Lord knew and was waiting down there for him?

He landed at the bottom, heart pounding, covered in slimy muck. Instantly, he was on his feet, pointing his illuminated wand tip in front of him, peering anxiously through the dark. He cast a few spells and found that he was alone down here. Slightly relieved, he began to move, following the path in front of him.

The light from his wand fell on an enormous twisted snake skin that made him scream and jump back in alarm. Panting, he tried to regain his composure, wiping sweat from his brow. He followed the snake skin until he got to a pile of rubble. Raising his wand, he waved away a clearing and continued on. He came to a room filled with bones and pillars leading to a large statue of Salazar Slytherin.

There, he saw the dessicated remains of the basilisk. Heart in his throat, he approached it cautiously, but the stink of decay was enough for him to know it was really and truly dead. He approached the dead basilisk, creeping towards its head as if he did not want to wake it.

This entire place set him on edge. He was really beginning to loathe Salazar Slytherin more and more with every second he spent in this forsaken place. Then he reached the skull. Steeling himself, he reached into the open jaw and ripped out a fang. And then four more just in case. Stuffing them into his pockets, he stared at the large ink stain covering the ground in front of the statue. Mounting the broom, he took off, speeding back through the chambers and up the pipes as fast as the broom would take him.

The chamber closed behind him as he exited.

"Did you get it?" the ghost asked as soon as he got back.

He pulled one of the fangs out of his pocket and held it up triumphantly. "Elizabeth, thank you for everything! I mean it!"

She smiled and nodded him towards the door. "You better hurry. Classes are going to get out soon."

Tossing the cloak back over his head he undid his spells and made his way back up just before classes let out.

Hermione was biting her lip and tapping her foot anxiously and she leapt forward when the door formed and Draco stepped through, pulling off the cloak. "You're very late!" she snapped. Then she got a good look at him as he stood up. "Oh dear. You look awful. What happened?"

"Thanks," he said sarcastically, handing her the firebolt and the cloak. He pulled the fangs out of his pockets. "I had to slide down a sewer pipe. Of course I look terrible. Now let's destroy this thing so I can take a shower."

Hermione ushered him down a row of junk to a corner she had cleared away.

"It's not going to explode, is it?" Draco asked as she set up impervius charms around them.

"To be honest, I'm not quite sure. I've never seen one destroyed."

That stopped him in his tracks. "So we have no idea what's going to happen when we try and stab it?"

Hermione shrugged. "No. Harry told me that they have a tendency to fight back. So wands at the ready?"

Draco nodded, pulling his own out.

Hermione levitated the horcrux out of her bag where it floated gently to the center of the floor.

Draco offered her a fang. "Would you like to do the honors?"

Hermione shook her head. "It should be you. You're the one it attacked. And you're the one who found it."

Draco touched the top of his head where the small scars were hidden by his hair. "Fair enough."

He crouched next to it. With a final look at Hermione who nodded and lifted her wand he stabbed at the center jewel. A blazing light burst from the sapphire as he sunk the fang deep into it. An inhuman scream echoed from the diadem, light pouring out of it.

Hermione gripped his collar and pulled him back. There was a final burst of light and then all at once it disappeared. All that remained was a smoking tiara with a shattered jewel in its center.

Hermione and Draco stared at it for several minutes, not quite daring to believe it was over.

Draco was the first to say something. "Do you think it's safe to touch it?" he asked in a nervous whisper, as if the thing might somehow be able to hear them.

Hermione approached it cautiously and held up Greyback's wand, poking at it. Nothing happened and she gingerly picked it up with her hand. "I'm guessing that broke Ravenclaw's enchantments as well? What a shame. I wonder how he got his hands on it in the first place."

Draco shrugged and she put the remains of it safely in her bag along with the remaining fangs. Draco offered her the one in his hand but she shook her head. "You should keep it. In case you happen upon any more horcruxes."

He winked at her as he pocketed it and turned to head to the bathroom off the far corner, in need of a well-deserved shower and a fresh set of robes.


	6. Chapter 6: The Escape Plan

**Chapter 6: The Escape Plan**

The next morning they polished off what was left of the ham and bread. Draco was looking into a spell to repair the crack in the time turner and had lost himself amongst the books for several hours as Hermione talked with Phineas Nigellus about what was going on outside. Now that he knew she wasn't pretending to hold Draco hostage and that they were actually working together, he was much more forthcoming with information and Hermione had removed his blindfold.

She asked about Kreacher's condition and was pained to discover that the elf had been tortured after Voldemort discovered he was alive and learned of Regulus Black's betrayal by breaching his mind. Phineas assured her the elf was still alive, but in poor health.

He told her that Andromeda Tonks's daughter had given birth to a healthy baby boy whose hair turned different colors like his mother's. Both mother and child were alive and healthy from the sound of things.

Minerva McGonagall had gone into hiding after the Death Eaters had tried to question her about their possible whereabouts. Apparently she had stunned Yaxley and blasted Alecto Carrow down a staircase.

He told her that Snape had tipped McGonagall off about it beforehand, but Hermione still had doubts about Snape.

Seven muggle villages had been raided and Lavender Brown's mother had been killed trying to save some fleeing muggles.

After Pansy Parkinson's father refused to help Death Eaters they had tried to take her little sister, who was a first year, as a hostage and Pansy had fled with her, cursing several Death Eaters who tried to pursue her.

The Death Eaters had stationed Greyback at the castle after that. Hearing this sent shivers down her spine.

Phineas also told her that the Death Eater ranks had grown significantly since Harry had died.

Hermione told Draco later what she had heard from Phineas.

When he heard about Pansy using bone breaking jinxes to incapacitate Death Eaters he seemed disturbed, but not surprised. "Pansy is nothing like her name. She's vicious. I doubt she gave it a second thought when she cracked Alecto's back in half."

"At least they both got away safely."

"Let's hope it stays that way."

"I always assumed her family was with _his _side."

Draco shook his head. "Her father used to be a supporter of his ideals, although I'm not sure he was ever considered as a possible Death Eater recruit. Voldemort was looking for young blood the first time around and I think her father was nearly fifty by the time Pansy was born."

When she told him that Greyback was at Hogwarts he looked concerned, but said nothing. He didn't need to.

"Voldemort is sending more and more Death Eaters here every day. Hogwarts isn't safe. We need to leave before we're trapped in here."

He nodded and sighed. "Okay. Let's talk with my grandfather later and see if my mother can help us work out a safe house."

Hermione agreed and after dinner they spoke with Phineas about finding a safe house where they could lay low for a while. Narcissa told them about a place she had in mind; an old Black family property by the sea in the north called Kraken Cove Cottage. It would take a few days, but she could check and set up protections on it to hide them safely. They both thanked her and began to prepare for their trip.

Hermione had problems deciding which books she wanted to take as she scanned the shelves. Draco told her she was being silly fretting over it, as not every book could possibly be useful, but then she pointed out how useful the book of druid rituals had been and he begrudgingly admitted she might have a point.

The days seemed to pass quickly after that and after the evening of the third day since they had come up with the plan to leave, Phineas reported that the cottage was ready. They would need to leave the grounds to safely apparate there though. Knowing that the gates would be watched by Death Eaters, Hermione suggested that they take the path to the Shrieking Shack from the Whomping Willow. Draco was terrified until she explained how to get through it safely.

"What about the entrance in and out of the castle? I suspect there will be at least one guard posted there."

"We may have to use stunners in that case. But maybe we'll just get lucky."

"Luck only gets you so far," Draco said doubtfully.

"Best keep our wits about us then."

They packed everything and discussed their plans one last time before they set out around midnight. With one last look around the room Hermione ducked under the invisibility cloak with Draco and they stepped out of the Room of Hidden Things. Their hearts pounded in their chests as they made their way awkwardly down a moving staircase; Draco was taller than her and he had to crouch to fit them both.

As they rounded a corner Hermione gripped Draco's arm to stop him in his tracks. Snape was striding down the hall straight at them. Hermione pushed Draco into an alcove by a suit of armor, her body pressed flush against him as Snape passed within a hair's breadth of their position. As soon as he was out of sight they moved down the hall, as quickly as they could in the dark without tripping over themselves.

Peeves passed above them at one point, dripping oil on the stairs, no doubt to trip up first years coming down for lessons the next morning. They took a detour through a secret passage behind a tapestry and came out on a landing next to the transfiguration classroom.

Voices came from up ahead and Draco pushed her into the classroom, closing the door as quietly as he could. He recognized one of the voices as Yaxley's.

"Blimey, we've been at this for hours. You think they're actually here? What, like she's had the lad tied up in one of the dungeons this whole time without us noticing?"

"Can't say, but we're stuck looking just the same…"

The voices of the two Death Eaters faded as they passed the classroom.

Hermione gripped Draco's arm tightly. "They know we're here," she breathed in a panicked whisper.

"I know. Someone must have found out," said Draco, wiping at the sweat on his brow. There was a pause as the two of them stared at each other, hearts pounding in their chests.

"Should we keep to the plan?" Hermione squeaked.

Draco shook his head, craning his neck to listen for footsteps.

"No. No, we should go back. If they know we're moving tonight it's not safe to try leaving the castle. They'll have extra reinforcements at the entrance. We'll have to wait them out."

Hermione nodded and they slipped out of the classroom again.

They made it back to the fourth floor landing when out from the shadows stepped Fenrir Greyback, followed by Amycus Carrow. Draco and Hermione froze.

"You sure they're here, Greyback?" Carrow asked, his eyes flicking about in the dim light of the halls.

A torch threw Fenrir's face into clear view and Hermione cringed, slowly backing away, her wand raised. Draco followed suit, the hair on the back of his neck rising as Fenrir took another step towards them.

"I'm sure," Fenrir said, his ragged voice cutting through the quiet stillness. He raised his chin and sniffed the air in long drags. "Ah. I can smell you, girly. Come on out and I promise I'll play nice."

He took another sniff at the air and then with a flash he stabbed his wand in one smooth motion, sending a hex inches past Draco's ear, shattering the stone behind him.

Draco's reaction was as fast as Hermione's and they shot off spells in reflex, but the blast staggered them and Hermione's stunning spell hit Amycus Carrow while Draco's exploded off a torch sconce. Carrow fell onto Greyback who shoved him roughly to the ground, snarling in fury.

Hermione tugged Draco backwards and they fled, just barely avoiding another spell in time to see Fenrir pull up his sleeve and press the mark there. The two of them ran up the stairs as fast as their legs would carry them. Quickly pulling a wet-start firework out of her pocket Hermione ran it across her tongue as the sound of racing footsteps came in all directions. She threw it into the air where it exploded and popped in showers of light and spinning whorls of colorful greens and blues. A Death Eater approaching them was temporarily blinded, and Hermione was able to get a quick _Expelliarmus _off in time to see the wizard's wand fly out of his hand.

Draco caught it and sent two stunners at another pair of Death Eaters who had just rounded the corner in front of them.

Hermione's legs flew faster than they ever had before, but Draco was faster still and he tugged Hermione's arm as they ran. He shot off several more jinxes and hexes as Greyback charged up after them. Hermione pulled the second wand out of her jacket pocket and sent a transfiguration charm at the staircase behind her once they reached the landing, turning it into a slippery stone slide. Howls of rage echoed behind her, but they didn't dare stop. They were so close to the Room of Requirement now. They couldn't stop or pause. Not even for a moment.

As they turned a corner past a large gargoyle the invisibility cloak caught under Hermione's shoe and they were thrown headfirst onto the ground as an explosion of green sparks burst above their heads. They were only half covered by the cloak and trying to scramble to their feet when they saw Severus Snape standing at the end of the hall. Hermione raised the cane wand in her left hand, but found that it had snapped in her fall.

She was too late to react when Yaxley rounded the corner.

"Cruc-"

A killing curse hit him in the chest. Hermione looked at Draco who was only now just standing up, then to Snape who had his wand raised and pointed past them where Yaxley lay motionless.

Draco raised his wand at Snape who sneered at him.

"Stand down, Draco. I'm here to help you. Now hurry."

The sound of approaching footsteps caught them off guard, slowing their retreat. The greasy haired man turned as three other Death Eaters, including Bellatrix Lestrange, approached, wands drawn.

"Excellent work, Severus-"

Spells hit the two Death Eaters beside Bellatrix: one crumpled to the floor and the other was blasted off into a wall. Bellatrix herself gave a shrill scream as the sound of bones breaking hit her wand arm.

"In here!" Draco yelled, pacing quickly in front of the blank wall as a door appeared. Snape followed them through the door as it sealed itself.

"Quick! To the cabinet. I might be able to fix-"

"It's no use, Draco. The Dark Lord burned the other one," Snape told him.

"Why are you helping us?" Hermione couldn't help it. She had harbored a deep hatred of Snape since he killed Dumbledore: the man who had trusted him so completely.

Snape's irritation showed plainly as he grit his teeth to keep his voice level. "I have always been a true member of the Order, Miss Granger."

"But you killed Dumbledore!"

"I did what Dumbledore asked of me. He was already dying."

"But-"

"And I was bound by the Unbreakable Vow to protect Draco and carry out the deed when he could not."

Draco's lips parted in shock. Apparently he had not known this. "What?"

"Your mother would do anything to protect you, Draco."

"How did they know we were here in the castle?"

"Greyback could smell traces of you both from when he arrived. And the rest knew about the cabinet back at Malfoy Manor. It didn't take too long to figure out."

"But _why _are you helping us? You _hate _me!" Hermione burst out in furious anger and confusion.

"I do not hate either of you."

"Then why-"

"You are so like her it's infuriating," he said to himself more than to her, running a hand over his face and through his black curtain of greasy hair. "Now is not the time or place, Miss Granger."

Hermione shrieked, pointing, and Snape's eyes widened as the blank wall behind them began to form a doorway. "Run and hide! You too, Draco! Go!" Raising his wand, Snape began to mutter a string of protection spells as the door opened and a high, cold laugh rippled through the room.

Draco's hand wrapped around Hermione's and he was pulling her down the rows, until they reached the broken Vanishing Cabinet. It sagged sadly, but Draco threw open the door and shoved her inside, covering her with the cloak. Hermione protested, but he forced her back in.

"Listen to me," he said frantically, pushing something into her hand. "Stay here under the cloak. I have a plan. I'm going to try and lead him away. Give me the diadem." Before she could refuse he seized the bag that was still hanging on her hip and pointed his wand inside it, summoning the diadem. He held it in his palm, covering the broken jewel and pulled the fang he had used on it from his back pocket. "I'm going to try and make it out the door. When it's safe, you need to find a way out of here. Bust a wall and fly away on Potter's broom if you have to. Got it?" His voice was a panicked whisper, his eyes locked onto hers. "You have to stay safe. You're the only one who can end it now."

"Draco-" There were tears brimming in her eyes. She knew it was a suicide mission.

And then his lips were on hers, soft and sweet, before they broke away.

"Please, Hermione." He closed her hand around the small object, pushing it to her chest. "Just in case. I'll see you on the other side."

Before she could say or do anything he pointed his wand at her and her whole body froze. Quickly, he pulled the cloak over her and sealed the cabinet, praying it would hold for long enough.

Objects exploded in the air as the stacks were hit with spells. Draco ran back towards the stacks where he heard Snape and Voldemort dueling. He didn't hold back as he rounded the corner where they were fighting, sending killing curse after killing curse at the Dark Lord. But the Dark Lord laughed, dodging with ease. He sent a flash of green light straight at Draco and Snape threw himself in front of the curse instead. Snape's body sunk to the ground.

Draco stumbled back, horrified as the tall, thin man with gleaming red eyes and a flat, snake-like nose rose above him.

The other Death Eaters raised their wands, but Voldemort held up his hand. "Stop! He is mine!"

Draco darted behind a stack and ran, dodging this way and that, sending mountains of junk toppling behind him. He darted past the stuffed troll and grabbed a broomstick, kicking off into the air. Using one hand to grip the broom, he rose up over the junk piles and held out the diadem in his hand.

"Is this what you want, Riddle?!" he screamed, holding the diadem aloft so that Voldemort could see it. He kept his hand covering the broken jewel and smiled ruefully at Voldemort, whose slit-like eyes widened in rage.

"Give that to me, Draco." His cold voice carried as he slowly rose off the floor until he was level with Draco.

Determined, Draco shook his head and held out the basilisk fang. "Leave now or I'll destroy it."

"You dare defy _me_?"

Draco heart pounded in his chest and his breathing became frantic.

There were shouts and from the corner of his eye Draco saw Bellatrix's wild hair and several other hooded figures running towards their master. "Give it to him, Draco!" he heard Bellatrix's voice carry over the others. For a faint second he wondered if she would fight for him too like Snape had. But then she turned her wand on him and that foolish notion vanished from his head.

He looked back at Voldemort's red eyes, defiant. "If you want it, come and get it!" Voldemort shot a curse at him and he dodged, dropping down into the stacks to avoid the spells from the Death Eaters. He didn't dare look back as he zigged and zagged until he saw that open door and pressed himself low against the broom handle.

But Voldemort's spell was faster. The door vanished and was replaced with a solid wall. Draco tried to pull out of his dive, but he ricocheted off the wall and landed hard in a pile of detritus and old junk, smashing into several bottles that shattered beneath him. His vision swam and blood poured from a cut along his cheek. His legs were definitely broken: he could see where the bone had shattered in his attempt to stop himself from crashing, even if he could not quite feel the pain of it yet. The diadem was still in his left hand, cutting into his palm. He slid his right hand off the broomstick handle and slipped it into his pocket to fish out his wand: it was broken in two places. He reached across his body for the spare wand in his other pocket and pointed it at the approaching Death Eaters. One of them laughed and his wand was wrenched from his grasp with a spell.

Voldemort floated down, his long black robes settling around him as he touched down, standing before him with his wand trained on Draco. "Give it to me, Draco," he commanded.

Wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth Draco grinned and chucked it along the floor, where it skid with an unpleasant metallic sound against the stone before coming to rest at Voldemort's feet. The shattered gem gleamed up at him.

The air around Voldemort seemed to darken and grow colder and a few Death Eaters took a step back. Furious, blazing red eyes bore down on Draco and he knew the spell was coming before the flash of green hit his chest.

Draco's rueful smile was still on his face as the light faded from his eyes.

Voldemort seethed before turning to his Death Eaters and shouting, "Find the mudblood!"

Hermione felt the spell lift and her heart sank, knowing full well what it meant. She heard the crash and the killing curse. But he couldn't be dead. She could still feel his kiss on her lips. He just couldn't be dead.

The inside of the cabinet smelled faintly of smoke. She held up her hand and illuminated her wand. She knew what it was he had given her. She peered at the time turner in the murky gloom. The crack in the side was still there; he hadn't had enough time to discover a way to mend it. Her thumb rubbed against the containment circle, remembering how she had performed the same spell to seal his mark. And now it didn't matter because he was dead anyway. Voldemort had still managed to find him and kill him. Just like Harry. Just like Ron. Just like everyone else.

Hot tears pressed at her, but she didn't have time for tears right now. She didn't have time for any of that. She only had one last chance. As she slipped the chain around her neck she heard heavy boots fall outside the door of the cabinet.

"She's here!" came the deep, ragged voice of Fenrir Greyback. Nails scratched down the panel doors to grip the knob, trying to force it to turn, but it wouldn't budge.

Steeling herself Hermione took a deep breath and spun the time turner.

"I can smell her: she's here!" Fenrir roared, but when he blasted the doors of the Vanishing Cabinet open, she was gone.


	7. Chapter 7: Back in Time

**Chapter 7: Back in Time**

Hermione knew something went wrong the moment she twisted the time turner. She had used one before, had gone back in time on countless occasions to fit her schedule and take classes. But this was different. The Vanishing Cabinet seemed to stretch and expand, as if it were breathing, and symbols appeared around her, glowing brightly. Some of them seemed to match the glow and shape of the ones on the time turner. The light from the symbols grew brighter and cracked into long spider-like webs.

Clutching the invisibility cloak around her like a shield, she pressed the time turner against her heart and prayed feverishly. The glow from between her hands grew brighter and brighter. The crack slowly spread beyond the containment circle. Then all at once the light seemed to split the cabinet apart as the time turner shattered into nothingness and she felt solid stone beneath her hands and feet.

She blinked, trying to clear the temporary blindness caused by the exploding light.

She could hear something that set her spine on edge: splashing water, gasping, a struggle.

"Go!" came a pained voice. "I order you to take the locket and go!"

Frantically, she felt the bag in her hand: the bag she knew contained the locket. Whose voice was that? How did he know she had it?

She blinked several times, rubbing at her eyes and getting to her feet. She heard a sob and a crack and more frantic splashing. Her vision was coming back to her. She could see a dark greenish glow and mist.

There was a scream and splashing and she was running, still half-blind towards the sound. She saw bloated corpses coming out of the water, grabbing at a man who was desperately reaching for the shore. "_Impedimenta! Reducto! Immobulus!_" She shouted every spell that came to her, firing at the corpses. The last one had a slowing effect and she realized that the bloated corpses must be inferi. A pamphlet came to mind. Fire! She needed to use fire to repel them. But she didn't want to hurt the person struggling in the water.

Thinking quickly, she sent two charms one right after the other. The first, a flame freezing charm, hit the person and the next was a firestorm charm. She had only ever tried the last charm once before and it was terrifying to behold in an actual fight now. The fire swept over the water like a tidal wave, burning the inferi.

She waded into the water, but the struggling person was too far out and more inferi were coming closer and closer.

She sent out more jets of flame and then pointed at the person and said, "_Accio!_" with all her might. His body slipped out of slimy dead hands and he flew at her. Hermione had been unprepared for the velocity at which she had summoned him and he hurtled into her, knocking her back onto the rocky shore.

Gasping and clutching her stomach, she sucked in air. The man next to her was unconscious, his forehead bleeding from where it had hit the rocks. But she recognized that face. And she knew where she was. She even had a rough idea of _when _she was and she panicked.

This was Regulus Black and she was in the cave where the locket had been hidden originally. She sent another wave of fire at the invading inferi, but no matter what they still kept coming. As quickly as she could, she thought of everything Harry had told her about the cave. They had come on a boat. But the boat was all the way across the lake, hidden beneath murky water and inferi. And it might not hold both of them.

She shook Regulus, but he was out cold. "Regulus, wake up. You have to call Kreacher back! _Regulus, please!_" But his body was limp, his face pale. Panicked, she felt for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there. She cast another wave of fire and scrambled up the island, pulling Regulus's limp body with all her might. Her back hit the stone pedestal that held the basin. She reached in and grabbed the fake horcrux there. Opening her bag, she shoved it in when she remembered something. Performing a quick summoning charm, she pulled Harry's firebolt out of the bag.

She had paused too long. Two inferi were trying to drag Regulus back into the water. A jet of flame shot from her wand and hit them both and she raced forward with the broom in her hand. Stowing the invisibility cloak and her bag, she dragged Regulus onto the broomstick. She got onto the front of it and wrapped Regulus's arms around herself and then conjured a rope to bind him to her so he wouldn't fall off.

Hermione had never been good with a broom and she kicked off nervously, giving a lurch as she did so. She gripped the broom tightly in her hands and sped across the lake as hands reached up to try and grab her as Regulus's dead weight threw the broom off balance.

Once she was across the water she didn't stop; illuminating her wand she saw the entrance up ahead and knew what she had to do. She slowed the broom and wiped her bleeding palm on the stone and it melted away.

The smell of salty sea air hit her and she shot out past the outcropping of rock and up into the cliffs. Fear surged through her as the upward momentum made her slide backwards, losing her grip for a terrifying moment. White-knuckling the broom handle, she stopped over a flat patch of grass and weeds, dropping down carefully and undoing the bindings to release Regulus.

She laid him gently on the ground and put her hand on his neck. He still had a faint pulse, but it was too soon to breathe a sigh of relief. Setting her wand at her side she moved aside his outer robes and ripped his shirt open, popping off the top three buttons to reveal his pale, barely moving chest. Grabbing her wand she performed the basic diagnostic spell.

Very grateful she had read through Mrs. Weasley's book on basic magical treatments for medical care, she rolled him onto his side and pointed her wand at his stomach. There was a flash of yellow and he was coughing and spluttering, vomiting up the potion. To her dismay he fell limp again and once more she performed the spell.

This time he coughed up even more of the potion and he rolled onto all fours, heaving until he managed to get the last of it up. With a heavy groan he rolled back.

Hermione banished the mess and performed the diagnostic spell again. Yet even before the spell had finished she could tell he was doing better just by looking at his coloring.

"Water," he gasped and Hermione nodded, pulling out a water bottle from her bag. She unscrewed the cap and lifted it to his lips. He chugged the entire thing, sucking in great lungfuls of air afterwards.

He coughed a few times, blinking up at her, dazed, and then he asked, "Who are you?"

She noted that his grip on his wand tightened, although he didn't point it at her. "That can wait. I need to get you to St. Mungo's. You've been poisoned."

"NO!"

Hermione blinked in surprise.

"Kreach… I need him." His voice was faint. "Can't go to St. Mungo's. They'll ask questions."

Hermione shook her head. "No. You need medical attention!"

He pushed her hand away and opened his mouth. "Kreacher!"

There was a crack and a house elf Hermione recognized from her past appeared. His eyes were raw and red from crying and his face was covered in tears stains. He wore a striped kitchen towel like a toga instead of the garments Hermione recalled. When he saw Regulus the elf threw himself across Regulus's chest, crying: "Master is alive! Master is alive!" over and over again. Kreacher kept touching parts of his face like he couldn't believe it was really Regulus.

"Kreacher…" Regulus was still panting weakly, but Hermione noticed the small smile he managed for the elf. "Kreacher. I need you to take me-us-to Kraken Cove Cottage." Regulus gestured to Hermione, whom Kreacher seemed not to have noticed.

Hermione smiled at him, but Kreacher eyed her warily and looked back at Regulus.

"Master needs medical assistance though-"

"We'll do that when we get there. Can you gather my potions supplies and bring them after you've taken us there?"

The elf nodded and Regulus offered his hand to Kreacher. The house elf turned to Hermione and with a second glance back at his master for reassurance he took her hand too and with a loud crack they vanished.

* * *

Hermione was caught by a bracing wind that nearly toppled her. Stuffing Harry's broom back into her bag she followed as Kreacher helped Regulus inside the house. The elf was too small to brace his master, who in turn was too proud to be carried in on a floating stretcher and Hermione took his other arm as they faced the biting wind and made their way towards the stone cottage up on the hillside.

Regulus stiffened when she took his arm and put it around her shoulder, but he seemed to be too weary to say anything.

Kreacher opened the door for Hermione and Regulus who stepped through the doorway and out of the cold wind. Kreacher lit a fire in the hearth and rearranged the furniture to bring the sofa in the corner to the front of the fireplace.

Stooping down carefully, Hermione helped Regulus lie back on the sofa. Still wet and freezing from the lake water, she performed a quick drying spell on them both and then a warming spell around the interior of the cottage.

Thunder clouds boomed overhead and it began to pour outside the window. Regulus lay back after Kreacher arranged some pillows to prop him up a bit. Even in his weakened state his piercing silver eyes never left her. He pulled a blanket around his shoulders as Kreacher put a kettle over the fire and brought out a large black case. Regulus groaned as he leaned over to open it and Hermione stepped forward.

"Let me help you, please."

He ignored her and opened it, rifling through vials and tidy labelled packages until he pulled out a stone that looked like a dried up kidney. He popped it in his mouth and swallowed it dry, coughing and grimacing, though his color improved slightly.

"Kreacher," he turned to the house elf who was stoking the fire and said, "Are the wards in place?"

Kreacher nodded, glancing at Hermione nervously.

"Good. Will you please bring a chair over for our guest?"

Kreacher nodded and a chair siddled over beside the bed and Hermione sat down with a quiet, polite "thank you" to Kreacher who said nothing in response and looked back at Regulus, worried.

Regulus studied her as she looked over him with concern, somewhat in a state of disbelief. "Kreacher." The house elf looked at him, twisting his hands in his toga. "Bind her to the chair and take her wand."

Before Hermione had time to react ropes appeared, snaking around her as her lips glued themselves together.

Kreacher approached her cautiously, taking her wand from her hand and giving it to Regulus.

He studied it for a moment. "I've seen this wand before. Where…" Realization dawned on him and he looked from her to the wand. "You don't look like Fenrir Greyback. But you have his wand. How?"

He nodded to Kreacher.

Her lips unglued themselves and she seethed with indignation. "This is what I get for saving your life? A bloody interrogation?" she shrieked angrily.

Regulus's face was a smooth mask and Hermione couldn't help but feel as if her impression of the Regulus she imagined couldn't be further from the real thing.

"How did you get this wand?" He held it up and she felt furious tears in her eyes.

"I stole it."

"How?"

"It doesn't matter."

He narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"

"Why should I tell you?" she spat angrily at him.

"Because I need to know if you're an enemy or an ally."

"I saved your life!" she said, exasperated. "Honestly, what more proof do you need?"

"Your name would be a good place to start."

"You wouldn't know me even if I told you my name."

"Why don't we find out."

"Let me out of these ropes and I will answer your questions," she said through gritted teeth.

He looked at Kreacher and nodded. With a snap of his fingers the ropes fell away.

Hermione rubbed her arms, scowling at Regulus.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Hermione Granger. And I know that you are Regulus Arcturus Black. Son of Orion and Walburga Black."

"How do you know who I am if we've never met?"

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "That's a long story. And quite frankly, I don't think you'd believe me even if I told you."

He raised an eyebrow and gestured around the room, leaning back against the pillows. "I have the time." His voice was calm and measured as his liquid silver eyes carefully assessed her every movement.

"Look, you're not going to believe me anyway so let's cut right to it. I know that you went into that cave to find Voldemort's locket because it's a horcrux and I know Kreacher has it now. I also know how to destroy it and I'm willing to help you find and destroy the rest of them."

Regulus's face didn't betray anything, but his chest stilled and Kreacher gave him an anxious look. It took him a minute to decide what he wanted to do next and Hermione relished in his silent panic. "How do you know about the horcrux?"

Taking a deep breath she steadied herself and began. "I know, because I've been hunting them too. Yes, there's more than one," she said, anticipating his next question. "From what I know, his aim is to make seven of them."

The color in Regulus's face drained. "Seven?" He was quiet for a moment as he exchanged glances with Kreacher before setting them back onto her. "How do you know all this? How did you know where to find the locket?"

"I…" she trailed off, unsure if she should go on. Would he think her mad if he heard her story? Should she try and lie? What was she supposed to do now? Slowly, she came to realize she didn't have a choice. She was stuck here and she needed an ally. Her voice softened as she told him the truth. "I'm not from this time at all. I traveled back here by accident with a broken time turner. I know who you are because my friends and I were looking for Voldemort's horcruxes too. We found your locket. The fake one with the note inside. And we discovered it was you who stole the real one sometime later. We were able to track down and steal the real locket and later destroy it. If this is 1979," she said slowly, looking to him for confirmation, "Then I think Voldemort should only have five horcruxes."

He looked at her like she had antlers growing out of her head. "Prove you're really who you say you are. Prove to me that you're actually from the future."

Hermione had suspected it would come to this. She pulled out her beaded bag. "I'm going to need the wand back. I'm afraid it's all buried under my books now."

He hesitated, but handed her Greyback's wand, keeping his own trained on her in case she tried to pull something.

"_Accio library card!" _She pulled out the laminated card from her local muggle public library and offered it to him.

"Hermione Jean Granger. Born September 19th, 1979."

She nodded, but he still looked unconvinced and she went back into the bag and summoned three more items: the locket he had put in the basin, the note from the locket in her time, and the real destroyed locket from her time period.

His eyes widened as he looked at Kreacher who shook his head and pulled out the horcrux from thin air.

Hermione could practically hear the ticking beat coming from inside the locket and it filled her with pain and rage as memories filled her head.

"This is the locket I found in the basin when I saved you," she said and opened it to show the fresh note carefully folded inside. She handed it to Regulus who took it. "And this," she said, unfolding the more worn version of the note that she had kept, "Is the note from the locket you left behind in my time."

He kept his face stony, but Hermione noticed his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed nervously. "If this is real…" he began slowly. "If what you're telling me is true and you really are from the future, then do we know each other from your time?"

Hermione's shoulders sagged in relief: he believed her. At least a little. But then he finished and she looked down at her hands, shaking her head.

Regulus was quiet. "I see." Flashes of memory came back to him: pale hands reaching for him, the sound of splashing, praying for the potion to kill him. He remembered the dead hands pulling him into the lake, brackish water filling his mouth, but returning his senses enough to tell Kreacher to go.

Kreacher started to cry. Regulus held out his hand and the elf gripped it in both of his smaller ones saying, "Master should not have risked his life. Kreacher should not have left master there in that terrible place."

"Don't blame yourself, Kreacher. It was my decision. I should never have let the Dark Lord near you. I'm the one who's sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for." Regulus squeezed his hand reassuringly and Kreacher wailed, wiping his eyes on the corner of his towel.

Hermione watched the two of them, feeling oddly out of place.

As it looked like Kreacher might be overcome with emotion for a while she busied herself with making tea, pulling out cups as Kreacher crawled onto the bed and mopped up the dried blood from Regulus's forehead and tended to his other scratches from the inferi attack. Hermione made tea and set the steaming cups next to Regulus and Kreacher.

Wishing to give them some privacy, and needing a moment to herself, she slipped out the front door and walked down to the sandy beach, letting the storm wash over her, soaking her to the bone.

Waves crashed and the sky roared and she let herself be crushed in the cacophony of the storm. She wrapped her arms around her knees, not caring that she was slowly losing feelings in her fingers and feet. Lightning flashed overhead and she wondered if she would be lucky enough to be struck by it.

She laughed through her tears at the irony of fate. Here she sat at the cottage that was supposed to be her refuge from the Death Eaters with her friend, but instead it was now her prison, holding her captive. And her friend was dead. The irony of it was not lost on her. She was here, after all, with a young pureblood, a Death Eater seeking redemption, a true Slytherin from a family of Slytherins, both seekers, both wealthy young noblemen, and both dead before their time. And so there she sat, letting her tears drown her, in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong person.

As thunder screamed down at her she screamed right back, knowing that it was of no use and screaming all the same.


	8. Chapter 8: Grief

**Chapter 8: Grief**

She wasn't quite sure when she surfaced from her grief and sorrow. There was no way to tell time with the darkened sky overhead. The rain did not cease and Hermione was glad of it. She hoped it never would. She wanted the whole world to flood and drown her. Her weariness, her grief, her loneliness, her sadness, all seeped into her very bones. She felt old. She felt tired in a way that did not compare to the ache of muscles. Her face did not feel the sting of the wind or the cold salt spray or the pounding rain anymore: she was too tempered for that now. She was iron and steel and ice. Nothing could hurt her when she had nothing left to lose. Her family was gone, her friends were gone, her life was gone. But the enemy was still out there.

Oh, how she wanted not to care. How she wanted to stay on this beach and forget and be slowly drowned by the rain. But inside her heart a tiny ball of white hot loathing burned with the intensity of a dying sun. She _had _to keep going. She had to finish Voldemort and she was going to do it alone it she had to. He would never know what he took from her, but she would make sure it never happened to anyone else.

Wiping her face she stared at the unforgiving sea and let the rain numb her.

Regulus watched her from the window, a pensive frown etched on his face. He had been cruel towards her when she had shown him nothing but kindness. And now that he had paid for that kindness by holding her hostage and interrogating her like a criminal he was surprised at her behaviour towards him even now.

She had shown him things from the future and given him priceless information about how to bring down the Dark Lord. She had saved his life, brought him back from the brink of death, and trusted him.

He looked down at the chipped tea cup. The tea had been cheap and not very palatable, but she had offered him comfort and even left a cup for Kreacher. Not many witches or wizards were kind towards house elves; he was well aware that many were outright abusive. Few were seldom as kind and thoughtful as she.

Even from here, with her back to him, she looked weary.

He wanted to know more, about the future, about who she was. It would be nice to have an ally in this secret war he was fighting.

A weight fell in his chest. He hadn't realized there were more out there. Five in existence currently, if she was telling the truth; which he suspected she was. _How many had Voldemort made by the time she was looking for them? How many had she destroyed? Had all her trials to get the horcruxes been like the ones it took to get the locket? _A shudder ran up his spine at the thought.

She had been sitting out there for hours now and he was starting to get worried about her health. And yet his feet remained rooted to the spot.

If she really was from the future then she was alone now. No home or family. No friends. But Voldemort was still here. Still strong and getting stronger. And now whatever horcruxes were destroyed in her timeline had to be destroyed again.

One of the paintings of a knight in the castle near the dungeons at Hogwarts sprang to mind. The knight was always fighting a dragon in the painting, pausing only briefly behind a tree or boulder as the dragon shot flames at him. There was something in her manner as she let the rain pour over her as if she could not feel it that reminded him of that painting. She looked battleworn.

The door of the cottage opened and Kreacher approached her, sheltering a cup of tea; the proper kind with milk and sugar.

Hermione felt a tug on her sleeve and looked over to see Kreacher standing there, shielding a cup of tea from the rain and holding it up in offering. She tried to force a smile at him in response, but it came off more as a grimace as she accepted the tea. "Thank you, Kreacher," she managed when she found her voice.

Kreacher was wringing his hands nervously as he lingered on the spot.

"Is something the matter? Is Regulus doing alright?"

The mention of his master's name was his undoing. He broke into tears again, and threw his bony arms around her neck. "Kreacher is forever in your debt Miss Granger. Kreacher will never forget that Miss Granger saved master Regulus."

Hermione was so surprised by the elf's actions that she spilled some of the tea on the sand. This was the first time Kreacher had ever touched her, much less hugged her. She patted his back uncertainly. "It's alright, Kreacher. Regulus is going to be just fine."

Kreacher broke away from her and fell to his knees. "Please do not be angry with master Regulus for what he made Kreacher do to you. He does not mean it. He is a good young man, a good master."

Hating the sight of Kreacher on his knees, she nodded her head reassuringly and gestured for him to rise, which he did. "It's okay. I understand. I'm sure I would have done the same thing in his position. Please, go inside and warm up. I'm sure Regulus could use your help." She smiled at him and took a sip of the now cold cup of watery tea. "And thank you for the tea."

Kreacher nodded at her with bloodshot eyes and went back to the cottage.

Hermione turned back to the waves, setting the cup of tea down at her feet. It was the simplest thing, but it brought back memories of Draco giving her a cup after a bout of nightmares and it made her eyes prick again. She rocked quietly as fresh hot tears fell into the sand.

* * *

It was growing darker and Regulus was pacing by the window, glancing out at her every time he came to pause by it. Unable to stand another moment of it, he wrenched the door open and walked into the rainstorm with a folded blanket across his arm.

She didn't look up as he approached. As he came closer he could see that her eyes were red and puffy. Averting his gaze he hovered near her, uncertain about what he should say.

"What do you want?" she asked.

It was not the snappy tone she had used earlier, but he could still hear a tinge of bitter resentment in it. But mostly she just sounded forlorn. He held out his arm. "I brought you a blanket. Why don't you come inside and warm up before you freeze to death?"

She glanced at the blanket and then back at the waves, unmoved. "I'd rather not. It defeats the purpose."

"Which is?" he asked, now slightly irritated as the cold rain and wind lashed at his face.

"Freezing to death."

Under different circumstances he might have laughed. But now he did not. He took a step towards her and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.

She looked up at him, a curious expression on her face. Shaking her head she turned back to the ocean.

Regulus, seeing the distant look in her eye sunk down into the sand next to her. He suppressed a shiver as the rain quickly soaked through his robes. He noticed the cup of what had once been tea overflowing with rainwater into the sand.

"Kreacher makes a good cup of tea. He'll be sad you didn't get to enjoy it."

Her whole body was shivering in the cold. "I know," she said. "He makes a delicious treacle tart too."

Regulus looked at her in surprise. "You know Kreacher from your time?"

She nodded, but didn't elaborate. She was shaking very badly and her fingers were stiff and appeared to be frozen to her knees.

"As pleasant as this is, I'm taking you inside now. You've got hypothermia and I really need you to stay alive." He offered her a hand up and she stared at it for a moment before moving a shaking hand to his. He took it and was instantly alarmed by how cold it was; her skin was like ice. Her knees had trouble straightening and she was shivering violently.

Cursing himself for not acting sooner, Regulus ignored her protests and scooped her up in his arms and carried her back inside. How stupid of him: leaving her out in the freezing cold rain for hours with nothing but the clothes on her back. _Stupid. Bloody stupid. Cruel, even._ It was all his fault for having treated her like a criminal. So much for being a proper gentleman. He put her on the sofa in front of the fireplace and performed a drying spell. She still shivered violently after he cast a warming spell too, and for a while after that, but soon enough she sat up and accepted the fresh cup of tea and a sandwich from Kreacher.

Regulus was feeling significantly better since the bezoar, and he managed to eat half a sandwich after his tea.

"How are you?" he asked, pushing the plate of sandwiches closer to her.

She had been staring at the fire for most of the evening. "I'm alive," she said solemnly, draining the last of her tea. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to get some rest."

He nodded slowly and Kreacher gladly showed her to the second bedroom. He heard her lock the door and mutter a series of spells. Clearly, she wished to be left alone. Once he had managed to finish all the food on his plate Kreacher came to inspect his health again. With Kreacher's approval he drank more water and decided to turn in himself.

* * *

He woke up to the sound of screaming. Wand in hand, his eyes darted around for the source. He saw Kreacher in the doorway, beckoning him and realized the screaming was coming from the room next to his. Kreacher twisted his hands as Regulus pounded on the door. The screaming did not stop. He pointed his wand at the door and said, "Alohomora!" But when he tried the handle it didn't budge. He banged on the door again. "Hermione? Hermione, are you okay in there?"

Another scream and Regulus turned to Kreacher. "Please check on her. Hurry!"

Kreacher apparated with a loud crack and Regulus listened tentatively at the door. He heard brief mutterings and then the door opened and Hermione let Kreacher out of the room.

Her hair was even more of a mess than usual and she was wearing a pair of fuzzy pants with a yellow mouse wearing blush on them along with a matching T-shirt. "I'm sorry about that. It happens sometimes." She rubbed her eyes sleepily and turned back around and closed the door behind her. Flashes of light came from underneath the door and then he heard the sound of bedsprings as she settled back into bed.

Kreacher walked him back to his door.

"If it happens again, would you please check on her and bring her a cup of tea or something to eat?"

Kreacher nodded, but hesitated, lingering in the doorway. In a low voice Kreacher asked, "Master, did you see…?"

"Yes. I saw."

Kreacher nodded and bowed out of the room.

Regulus sat on the edge of the bed and twisted his wrist in his hand. He had seen it there. "_Mudblood_" carved into the flesh of her wrist. Carved there. With a cursed blade, he guessed, based on the scarring.

She had more to her story than he realized. Evidently there were chapters of her past that still gave her screaming nightmares. He had a feeling he knew exactly what kind of person would do something like that.

There was a flash of lightning from outside, briefly illuminating the room and his pale forearm where the inky black snake slithered from the mouth of an open skull. Oh yes: he understood perfectly.


	9. Chapter 9: Mission Driven

**Chapter 9: Mission Driven**

The next morning the storm was quieter, but the rain still pattered hard against the windows. Hermione was already awake, staring out at the sea. She liked the repetitive crash of the waves; it had always calmed her ever since she was a child. But now she was somewhere past calm, caught in a state of numbness.

There was a knock at the door and Hermione looked up, grateful for the interruption in her thoughts. She opened the door and there stood Kreacher with a silver tray laden with toast, eggs, and sausages, as well as a cup of tea. His head was bowed, but she noticed his eyes glance up at her left wrist propped against the doorway. Cursing herself for not thinking to glamour it beforehand, she brought it down against her side to hide it and did her best to smile at Kreacher. She had never needed to glamour it during her time with Draco: there was no point since he had seen it happen. She made a note to do it before she saw Regulus. He might be a friend to house elves, but she knew his family and their thoughts about blood purity quite well. Thinking about Walburga's portrait screaming at her made her grimace.

"Would... Miss Granger like to take her breakfast in her bedroom or in the main room?" Kreacher asked.

She could tell he was fighting back the urge to call her mudblood like he had so many times before.

In this time it appeared that Kreacher did not mutter to himself the way he had when she knew him, and it made her wonder if those years of being alone in an empty house had done a great deal of damage.

"I'll eat at the table if that's alright. Thank you, Kreacher."

He bowed and brought the tray over to the table.

Hermione dressed quickly and brushed her hair. When she arrived back in the main room the sofa had disappeared from in front of the fireplace and there was a table set up instead. A blue flower sat in a small vase in the middle of the table. She couldn't help but think that Regulus looked a bit out of place as he sat there in the rustic cabin with his perfectly tailored robes and a knotted tie at his throat. He looked like he was dressed for a funeral.

He looked up when he saw her approach and was surprised to see she had adorned a similar set of mugglewear as the day before.

She sat at the table across from him and picked up a piece of toast.

Regulus was reading a copy of the Daily Prophet, but he set it aside. "Good morning, Miss Granger," he nodded at her formally and she resisted the urge to scoff at his perfunctory politeness.

"Good morning, Mr. Black," she said in a slightly mocking tone. "Please call me Hermione. I think we've been through enough already to warrant that."

He nodded at her slowly. "How are you doing today, Hermione?" he added.

"Fine. And yourself?" She had been worried that there might have been lingering effects from the potion.

"Kreacher has been taking good care of me." He smiled at the elf who shuffled away to tend to the fire. "But I suppose I owe my good health to you as much as Kreacher."

"Well I think I can safely speak for both of us then when I say we'd prefer it if you didn't drink any more dangerous potions," she said as waves of pent up hostility radiated off her. She slammed her cutlery down on the table. "_Honestly_, what were you thinking?! Going there alone and drinking that potion?!"

"I wasn't alone," he said, somewhat startled. "Kreacher-"

"You told him to leave you! You told him to take the locket and leave you there! And you knew what the potion did! Why did you go and drink it?!"

"I didn't realize I wouldn't be able to conjure water on the island."

"So then you could have left and come back at a later time!"

"I thought I would be able to handle the situation once I was there," he contested hotly, color rising in his cheeks.

"Really?" She stood up from her chair and leaned over the table so that she was close to his face. "_To the Dark Lord. I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. R.A.B._," she quoted verbatim. Tears of fury pricked in her eyes.

Regulus's face reverted to the stony mask once again.

"You knew you were risking your life going in there! You knew that one way or another it meant you would die!"

"I don't owe you an explanation."

"Actually, Regulus, you do. Because if fate brought me back to this time to save you-not my friends or family or anyone else-but _you_, then you do owe me an explanation as to why you think your life is so utterly worthless that you would throw it away like that!"

"I wasn't throwing it away. Trying to bring down the Dark Lord is the only meaningful thing I have ever done with my life. I would gladly sacrifice my own life in exchange for the Dark Lord's."

His measured calm was unnerving to Hermione, as was the manner in which he so clearly gave no regard to his own life and his own worth. It broke her heart to hear him say it, and worse, believe it.

She bit her lip before looking at him again. She studied his face, the hard determined expression unreadable. "Your life is not worthless, Regulus. Please don't treat it like it is."

A beat of silence passed between them and then he rose and leaned across the table so that he was the one towering over her. She had not realized how much taller he was than her until that moment. She did not flinch at his attempt to intimidate her.

"Do not presume to know me or my mind, Miss Granger. You are out of your depths here."

Hermione stood her ground. "Then don't presume you know a thing about me, Mr. Black." She slipped Greyback's wand out of her sleeve and had it pointed under his chin before he could react. "I've been in this fight for a long time. Longer than you. If I need to hunt down every last horcrux all over again, I will, and I'll do it alone if I must. Just say the word, Regulus, and I will obliviate your memory and be on my way." She stared at him, hard, but he met her gaze unblinkingly. "But if you want to help me, you're in it for the long haul. No noble self-sacrifice. If you're in this with me, I need to trust that you'll be there by my side. Do you understand?"

His breathing was steady and he gave a short, curt nod.

"And do you accept?"

"Yes."

Hermione lowered the wand and pocketed it once more. "Good."

The tension went out of her shoulders and she sat down again. As she did so she realized he had his own wand pointed at her stomach. He sat down too, although he did not stow his wand. "Kreacher. It's okay. Put it back."

Hermione turned to see Kreacher holding the fire poker in his hands like a spear, the sharp tip pointed at her. He lowered it at his master's command and returned it to the stand by the fireplace, never taking his eyes off her.

Hermione felt immensely guilty for frightening the poor elf. "I'm sorry, Kreacher."

He said nothing but looked at Regulus.

As Hermione turned back to face him she was surprised to see Regulus was smiling at her in a satisfied way. "Shall we get to it then?" he asked, finally setting his wand aside and pulling the horcrux from his pocket. He put it on the table in front of them next to the small vase. "How do we destroy it?"

The locket seemed to weigh heavily on the table, as if it had its own dark gravity sucking the shadows in. Hermione stared at it, hating the thing. Memories of wearing it around her neck for weeks and weeks spring to mind. A shudder went through her spine at the memory of cold creeping into her heart and making the terrible thoughts in her head worse.

She remembered the look of triumph on Harry and Ron's faces when they told her about how they had destroyed it. But she hadn't been there. She hadn't seen it happen herself. "A horcrux has to be destroyed beyond repair. I suspect Voldemort has put enchantments on this one to protect it. My friends, Harry and Ron," a lead weight sunk in her heart as she said their names, "They destroyed it with the Sword of Gryffindor. The sword was infused with basilisk venom, which only has one known antidote."

"Phoenix tears," Regulus said, and she nodded. "Do you still have the sword?"

She shook her head and Regulus frowned as his excitement left him. "Harry had to speak Parseltongue to open it before they stabbed it. I don't know if we would be able to do it otherwise."

Regulus nodded glumly and Hermione pulled out the beaded bag on her lap and reached her hand inside. "Might as well see what happens if we try though," she said and with whip-like speed she brought her arm swinging down on top of the locket, stabbing at the very center of it with a basilisk fang.

Regulus jerked back in alarm at the sudden motion, but nothing happened. Hermione's trembling fist held a long fang above the locket, an inch away from its surface. Her whole arm was shaking with effort as she tried to drive the fang closer to the horcrux, but finally she relented and let her hand fall back onto the table.

"What is that?" Regulus said, pointing at the fang in her hand.

"A basilisk fang. It's something that can be used to destroy a horcrux. At least once we manage to open it, that is." She sighed and put the fang back in her bag. "Evidently Voldemort has put a strong shielding enchantment against any outside attack." She chewed her lip thoughtfully and then picked up a piece of toast.

"And where exactly did you get a basilisk fang?"

"Hogwarts."

He gave her a look and she explained about the Chamber of Secrets underneath Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"You're telling me there's a giant dead basilisk in the school right now?"

"Actually, it should still be alive right now."

Regulus paled. "Mother of Merlin. We have to tell Dumbledore."

Hermione wavered. "I...I don't think there's any immediate danger. Like the locket, the chamber can only be opened with Parseltongue."

"Then how did you get it?"

"I didn't," she admitted. "A friend of mine did."

"Your friend could speak Parseltongue? That's a rare gift."

She shook her head. "He used legilimency on Moaning Myrtle to see a memory and was able to copy the sound."

Regulus nodded slowly, something clicking into place in the back of his mind. "I think I know a way we might be able to open the locket."

Hermione shook her head. "Moaning Myrtle won't have the memory of watching someone speak it in this time."

Regulus shook his head. "I didn't mean we should ask her. I think I may have thought of something just as good." He stood up and summoned a traveling cloak. "Wait here."

Hermione frowned and muttered under her breath. "Nowhere to go."

Regulus paused for a moment, her words twisting his heart. "Kreacher, keep an eye on things while I'm gone. And take care of Miss Granger if she needs anything."

Kreacher frowned bitterly at the request.

"She didn't mean any harm earlier. You know she was only worried," Regulus said reassuringly as Kreacher held the door open for him, speaking quietly enough so that Hermione did not overhear. Kreacher said nothing, but nodded and went back inside.


	10. Chapter 10: Home Sweet Home

**Chapter 10: Home Sweet Home**

Regulus opened the door to 12 Grimmauld Place and was accosted at once by his mother, her stern, harsh face staring at him with disapproval as he slipped off his traveling cloak and hung it up on the stand by the door. Her arms were crossed in anger. Although this was a normal state for her, as he well knew. He had always wondered if his mother preferred being angry to being happy.

"Where have you been?" she snapped.

"My apologies, mother. The Dark Lord gave me a mission and I'm afraid it ran well into the night."

"What mission?" she asked, a dubious expression on her face. He hadn't been given any missions yet, fresh out of school.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss it."

She made a noise of irritation and then said, "Where is Kreacher? He wasn't here to serve breakfast this morning."

"I sent Kreacher on an errand. I apologize for monopolizing his time. Is father in?"

"You know very well he's at the ministry already."

He nodded and went upstairs to his bedroom. He stared at the newspaper clippings on the wall and felt better knowing he had someone else in his corner fighting against the Dark Lord. He packed a change of clothes in a suitcase along with a few other essentials he didn't have at the cottage, before he swept from the room and climbed the stairs.

The gallery was a bit dusty. It held a large grand piano that never got much use, as well as a myriad of items that were of special significance to the House of Black: a bust of Arcturus Black, a display for the Order of Merlin First Class right beside it, a set of telescopes pointed out the large wrought iron windows, a map of the constellations from the 15th century, a series of large black and gold Greek vases depicting the mythological stories of the zodiac signs, several gleaming swords, a moondial, a statue of Merlin, several other enchanted items in glass display cases, and of course dozens of portraits of notable Black ancestors lining the room. He walked by them, nodding in greeting to the ones who were awake.

He stopped by the one of Phineas Nigellus who pretended to be asleep. "Grandfather," he said with a polite nod, throwing up a silencing charm so they would not be overheard by any of the other sleeping portraits.

Phineas gave a dramatic start and opened his eyes. "Ah, Regulus. How is the noble Black family heir?" There was something peculiar in his tone, but Regulus brushed it aside.

Regulus smiled politely. "I am well, grandfather. If you have the time, may I ask you some questions?"

Phineas snorted. "I have nothing but time, my dear boy. But let me ask you a question first."

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you hunting down the Dark Lord's horcruxes?"

Regulus's eyes widened in a panic and he glanced around quickly to be sure they weren't overheard. "How did you-?"

"Miss Granger was not the only one to tumble back through time, Regulus. She has this very portrait, albeit a few years older, in that clever bag of hers. Clever girl, that one. Brave, clever girl."

Regulus blinked in surprise as his grandfather's eyes welled with tears.

"It is so good to see you again, Regulus. It was unimaginable, losing you." Tears fell down Phineas's cheeks. Regulus was shocked: his grandfather did not get sentimental or overly emotional like this. Phineas sobbed. "Just like that: the Black family name wiped out forever."

Now he was just being dramatic. "I'm hardly the last Black, grandfather."

Phineas's scruffy eyebrows seemed to float off his face as he sobbed again. "You were the heir, Regulus! The only heir!"

"Sirius may have been blasted off the tapestry, but he still carries the name." Not to mention, Regulus was very aware of his brother's reputation for bedding women right and left. "Surely Sirius…"

But his voice caught in his throat as he watched Phineas's reaction.

Phineas shook his head sadly and sniffed. "Sirius went to Azkaban for twelve years for a crime he did not commit. He never married, never had children. He was killed by Bellatrix in my time."

Regulus's heart froze in his chest and he took a stumbling step back. "Sirius dies? But what about mother and father?"

"Your mother is dead too. And your father…" Phineas hesitated, choking on a sob. "When he saw the tapestry…oh, Regulus."

He understood the reference at once: when a family member was born, married, or passed away, the tapestry showed the change the moment it happened. His mother and father must have seen his death date appear on the tapestry.

"When he saw your face turn into a skull…" That meant a person died a violent death instead of passing from natural causes. "...And the date of death appear, your father could not bear it. Regulus, he...he… took his own life not long after. Your death marked the beginning of the end of our family."

Regulus swallowed, bracing himself against the wall. This was too much. He had not been prepared for this.

"Regulus, please, my boy, my heir, listen to me. Do not fight this battle. Nothing good can come from it. It claimed your life the first time. Please do not let me lose you again. Let the girl do this alone. Save yourself. Save our family. Find a nice pureblood girl to marry, settle down, have children, move far away if you must, but please, please, my boy, you must let this go."

Regulus's eyes burned. "I can't," he whispered. Looking into Phineas's eyes he shook his head. "I can't. This is too important. I have to do this."

Phineas threw himself on his knees, clenching the frame in his hands. "Please, Regulus. Please! You must not do this. It is far, far too dangerous! She has already lost this battle once, and it cost more than one house its heir! Please, Regulus, turn back before it is too late!"

Regulus dug his nails into the wallpaper beside the painting. "No," he shook his head.

Phineas gave him a pleading look.

"I have to do this. It's only going to get worse. He's only going to get stronger. If we don't destroy them before long, it will be too late. There is no running away from him." He held up his arm and pulled the sleeve down, revealing the mark.

Phineas cringed, but could tell from the resolve in his grandson's eyes he would not convince him. He sobbed and sniffed loudly, shaking his head sadly. "Fine. Fine. If you will not listen to reason, then I will do what I can to keep you safe otherwise." He looked back at Regulus, his shoulders sagging in resignation. "What do you need?"

"Is there anyone in our family who spoke Parseltongue?"

Phineas rubbed his red eyes and pointed across the room. "Cepheus Black."

Regulus thanked him quietly and Phineas broke into another sob and left the portrait.

Regulus undid the silencing charm and then put it back in place as he stood in front of a very old wizard snoozing in a portrait with a dark green background. He always found that the older portraits slept more often than the others.

He cleared his throat and the bald man rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. As his watery eyes came into focus he bowed his head in greeting. "Good morning, Regulus."

Regulus gave a bow in turn. "Good morning, grandfather." It was the customary greeting he gave to the elder portraits.

"What brings you to me?" Cepheus asked, his voice croaking a bit from disuse.

"I need your help. I believe you speak Parseltongue. Is that true?"

"It is," he said with a grin, giving a demonstrative hiss and sticking out his tongue in a jovial manner.

"Can it be learned?"

He bobbed his head from side to side. "Yes and no. It is usually inherited by blood, although like any tongue, it can be understood with a good deal of practice."

Regulus nodded. "Would you be willing to help me, grandfather?"

The bald wizard smiled gleefully at him. "That is what we are here for, young master: to help along the next generation of our family."

"Thank you, grandfather. I would be very appreciative of any help or instruction you can give me. Although, it may be easier to learn in a quieter place. Do you mind?" The man nodded and braced himself against the frame as Regulus waved his wand and shrunk it down. Taking it carefully from the wall he slipped it inside his inner jacket pocket.

As Regulus left the room he ran into his mother coming up the stairs. "Where are you going?" she asked when she saw the suitcase.

"Out. My mission may require a few more days. I will send word when I can." He grabbed his traveling cloak and turned back to her, one hand on the door. "And it appears doxies have been at the portraits in the gallery again. I'm taking one of them to be restored." With that he left, swinging the door shut behind him before his mother could protest.

* * *

When he arrived back at Kraken Cove Cottage the storm had lifted. Grey skies still hung overhead, but beams of light broke through in scattered disarray over the ocean. Regulus let his hood fall back and turned toward the cottage.

Kreacher greeted him at the door and took his suitcase. "How did it go?" he asked Kreacher as he hung up his cloak.

"Miss Granger is staying in the guestroom. She has not come out since master left."

Regulus nodded and said, "Thank you, Kreacher. Would you mind heading home for a few hours? My mother is looking for you. And if she asks what we've been up to, lie. I told her I was on a mission for the Dark Lord. The less she knows, the better." The house elf nodded solemnly and apparated with a crack.

Stepping in front of the door he knocked, waiting.

Hermione opened it and raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you going to explain now?" she asked wryly, making him feel a tad guilty for leaving her without an explanation.

He nodded. "I am." With that he pulled out the portrait and enlarged it with a wave of his wand. "This is my ancestor, Cepheus Sagitta Black. A famous herbologist and Parseltongue." He pressed his lips together in a suppressed smile as he watched her expression change from one of skepticism to excitement.

"Really?! Oh, that's brilliant!" She grabbed the frame and held it up to the light, accidentally jostling Cepheus a bit.

"Careful now! I'm not a young spring chicken, you know!"

She looked at him again, beaming and shaking her head in awe. "Brilliant, Regulus. Utterly brilliant!"

He grinned back at her; he couldn't help himself. "Want to give it a try?"

"Destroying it?"

He nodded.

"Now wait just a minute! I said I would help you, Regulus, but if you destroy my portrait-"

"No, no, grandfather, we're not going to do anything to damage your portrait. We need your help to destroy a dark magical object. But it's a part of a secret mission, so you can't tell anyone."

The old man wrinkled his nose in a huff. "Seems to me you just want to show off family secrets to impress a young lady…" the portrait muttered. Regulus hid his eye roll. He didn't want to say more in case Cepheus might refuse.

Hermione grabbed her bag and the locket from the table and ushered him outside. "We should do it in the open. I'm not sure what other defenses it might have," she admitted. She remembered Ron's hesitation and knew that there had clearly been more to it than they let on, which worried her.

They chose a spot in a protected cove a little ways along the beach. Hermione set up protective enchantments and was impressed by Regulus's own spellwork. He was able to add a few additional spells she had never heard of and she made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Hermione could feel the locket twitching like a savage cockroach was trying to escape from inside of it and she wondered if it could sense danger nearby. She settled it on the rock, pinning it between her hands.

"It's like it's alive," Regulus commented, watching the thing pulse and struggle under her fingers.

Hermione looked at him nervously. "It's going to fight back. Be prepared for anything."

He nodded, setting his jaw firmly as he steeled himself. He pointed his wand at it and held the portrait up in front of him like a shield.

Hermione pulled the fang out of her pocket and raised it above the locket. It was now or never. She nodded at Regulus.

"Cepheus, when I say so, I need you to command the locket to open in Parseltongue." The man in the portrait was leaning against the frame with interest, bracing himself as he nodded sternly to Regulus. Repositioning so that his wand was pointed at it, he said, "Now!"

Cepheus opened his mouth a high hissing sound came from the portrait.

The two sides of the locket sprang open and inside Tom Riddle's dark, handsome, human eyes stared back at them and a voice ripped through the cove. Shadowy mist burst forth from the windows inside the locket. "I have seen into your hearts," the high voice said.

Hermione reeled back as the shadowy silver mist took the form of Harry, Ron, and Draco. "You let us die, Hermione. We fought to protect you and you let us die for you! It was the one chance to stop Voldemort for good, and I died for a worthless friend like you!" The figure in glasses shouted venomously.

"No," she sobbed. "No, Harry, please…"

Then the silvery form of Ron stepped forward, "I came back for you. I loved you! We were supposed to stay together through all of this, but you ran away with Malfoy like a coward!"

Air stuck in her throat.

Draco's form stepped forward, sneering at her. "I sacrificed everything for you, you filthy little mudblood! I sacrificed my family for you! I gave my life defending you from the Dark Lord!"

She shook horribly, clinging to the rock as the figures hovered over her. "Did you even mourn us? Did you even miss us? Did you even try to fight, you coward?"

Hermione trembled all over, blinking back tears. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen…"

Regulus watched in horror at the silver figures pressing in on Hermione. "They're not real! Hermione, they're not real!" He stepped forward and raised his wand and a fourth figure rose from the second window and turned to him. It was Sirius. "No," he gasped.

It was Sirius, but he was covered in blood, his shirt hanging off him in tatters, dried blood matting his hair to the side of his face. "You did this, Reg. You did this. It was all your fault! All of it!" Sirius's silvery face was enraged, his eyes mad and wild. "Perfect Reggie always does what mother asks of him. You were always too weak. No mind of your own. A coward. You don't care who you hurt, do you? You turned your back on your own brother. Are you going to kill me Reggie? Look at you, you're still weak! You went to the Dark Lord to look strong, but you were always weak. You went into that cave because you were too much of a coward to kill yourself like a real man…"

Regulus was on his knees, tears blinding him. "You're not real! You're not real!" he repeated under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I am real! When the Dark Lord comes for you, Regulus, he will make you suffer unlike anything you've ever known. You will beg for death…"

The three figures surrounding Hermione's shivering body turned on him, transforming into cloaked, masked, hooded figures he recognized so well. They raised their arms, their dark marks clearly visible from beneath their robes as they advanced upon him.

"No, please… Please..." he murmured, the words fading on his tongue as he backed away.

A terrifying scream ripped through the air; a horrific, earth-shattering cry and the silver Death Eaters vanished alongside the bloodied imitation of Sirius.

Hermione repeatedly stabbed the shattered windows of the locket. "It's not real, it's not real, it's not real…" she repeated, tears streaming down her cheeks. She stumbled back from the rock where the broken locket lay motionless, falling backwards into the sand, the fang slipping from her grasp.

After a minute, Regulus stood up slowly, panting heavily. The portrait of Cepheus groaned as he shrunk it and put it back in his pocket with a quick word of thanks. He approached the locket cautiously, his wand pointed in front of him, and he inspected it carefully. Deeming it safe to pick up, he examined the puncture marks in the glass. The eyes were gone, the only thing he saw was his own reflection and that of the dim grey sky.

Tucking it in his pocket he glanced at Hermione who had her hands in her hair, shaking her head, still muttering "It's not real" over and over again. Kneeling down beside her he took her hands in his, forcing her to look at him. "It's over," he told her, squeezing her hands. "It's over, Hermione. We did it. You did it. It's over," he said reassuringly, pulling the broken locket from his pocket.

She cringed, then took it from him, turning it this way and that to be sure. Holding it gingerly, she passed it back to him, nodding, and grabbed the fang beside her, and together they made their way back up to the cottage.

The two of them sat outside on the wooden chairs under the overhanging roof, and for some time they didn't say a word to each other. They were both still caught up in the recent memory of the incident they had just faced together.

Hermione put the fang back into her bag and pulled out a butterbeer bottle for each of them.

Regulus said nothing, but accepted the bottle from her gratefully. "Are they all going to be like that?" Regulus asked, his voice catching in his throat.

"I don't know," Hermione said, rolling the bottle in her hands before taking a long drink from her bottle. "Was that Sirius?" she asked quietly. "The figure you saw?"

Regulus took a swig and nodded.

She watched him sadly. "It's not true, you know. What they said."

He didn't say anything, scratching at the label on the brown bottle, avoiding making eye contact with her. "No, it was."

Hermione didn't know what to say. The silence built around them until Hermione dared to ask another question. "Have you talked to Sirius? Maybe-"

"No, and I don't plan to." He took a drink and rolled the bottle in his hands, lost in his own thoughts.

A furrow appeared between Hermione's eyebrows as she pursed her lips in frustration. "He missed you, Regulus. Whatever bad blood there is between you, I know he missed you dearly."

Regulus shook his head, turning his head away from her to look at the waves. "No, he wouldn't. He doesn't miss me now."

Hermione leaned closer to him, reaching out her hand to cover his, but she hesitated, uncertain, and finally withdrew it, not wishing to overstep. "He does care about you. I know he does. You're his brother, his blood. If you saw the man I knew in the future, so full of regret, you would never say that he doesn't miss you."

"The only reason Sirius would be filled with regret is because he didn't get to kill me himself. I'm not his family anymore. He's made that perfectly clear."

Hermione chewed on her words. She knew that Sirius had run away from home and stayed with the Potters when he was a teenager. When she had asked him about it the summer before fifth year, he had rolled his eyes and nodded at the portrait of his mother down the hall and said, "Can you blame me? Look at what I had to live with. Trust me, the real thing was worse."

Inhaling through her nose, she let the air slowly to calm herself. "Just because he didn't share the same beliefs as his family doesn't mean he stopped caring about you. He-"

"Share the same beliefs?" Regulus repeated, giving her an insulted and disbelieving expression. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, biting his lip to keep back the words he wanted to spit out at her. "Sirius is a Black, born and bred to the notion that he was above others. You'd do well to remember that."

Hermione winced, recalling Sirius's treatment of Snape during their school years. Worse yet was his treatment of Kreacher, which resulted in his death. He hadn't been the most compassionate person. "Well, can you blame him for distancing himself from his family?"

"_Our_ family," he corrected. "And no, I don't blame him at all for getting away from our parents. It was the best thing for him, really."

This caught her by surprise as Regulus appeared to be genuine in his sentiment. It was not stated cruelly at all, but almost in relief of sorts.

"He's better off away from our mother."

"She really is a horrible woman," she said before covering her mouth guiltily. The words had slipped out before she could stop them, remembering all the times she heard "filthy mudblood" and "stain in the house of my forefathers" in the halls.

Regulus studied her, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Do you know my mother? From your time?"

"Oh yes. At least I am well acquainted with her portrait calling me rather foul names." She made a face and he scratched at the paper on his bottle, studying her through narrowed eyes. She suddenly felt guilty. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you that. I shouldn't have said anything. She is still your mother, after all. I have no right-"

"She's an evil hag." His candor caught her off guard. "She's probably one of the most evil people I've ever met. And I've met a lot of them."

She could tell he was trying to make a joke, but all she managed was a grimace. His expression became serious once more and he said, "But the illusion or whatever was right. I do obey them, even if I don't agree with them. I was never like Sirius. Brave, dumb Gryffindor through and through."

Hermione winced and Regulus noticed, pausing in his sip. "Spoken like a true Slytherin."

He cocked his eyebrow. "Really? You were in Gryffindor?"

She nodded, sipping again.

"I would have thought you were in Ravenclaw. You seem so clever."

She shrugged. "The hat thought about it. But I think it put me in the right house in the end. I made some good friends."

"The ones that came out of the locket?"

She stared at her lap and nodded. "They died fighting against him. Two of them, Ron and Harry, have been my friends since first year. Draco, the blonde one, he was actually someone we despised…" She stared out at the sea, lost for a moment in memories from a lifetime ago. "But he saved my life and we escaped from Voldemort and went into hiding together." She took a drink. "He's actually you're cousin. Or second cousin. He's Narcissa's son."

Regulus raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Narcissa doesn't have any children though. Not yet, anyway." Hermione shrugged and he smiled ever so slightly, surprising her. "You're spoiling the future for me."

She smiled. "Yeah, well, clearly I've already messed up the timeline by saving your dramatic ass and finishing off a horcrux way earlier than expected."

"Hey!" he protested in mock indignation.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, please! I've read the note. You're the biggest drama queen I've ever met."

He chuckled and finished off his butterbeer, setting it down on the table. "I don't know about that. I never put a piece of my soul in jewelry then hid it in a cave with an inferi-filled lake in a basin of torture potion." To his surprise she actually laughed, shaking her head at him.

"Alright, alright, you're not the biggest drama queen out there. Voldemort does set the bar pretty high."

He squinted at her, studying her.

"What?" she asked, noticing the peculiar way he was looking at her.

"I've never heard anyone except for Dumbledore say his name."

She shrugged, setting her empty bottle on the rickety table. "Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself. Tom Riddle made the name of Voldemort to scare people and make himself into this terrifying god-like wizard. But he's mortal just like everyone. And now he's a little bit more so," she said, smiling at him.

"So do you know what they are, the other horcruxes?"

She nodded. "I have a pretty good idea. Besides the locket there's his grandfather's ring, his diary, Hufflepuff's cup, and Ravenclaw's diadem."

Regulus blinked. "You're joking. He actually found the Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw?"

Hermione nodded and Regulus ran a hand through his hair. Hermione noted that his hair was significantly tidier than Sirius's had been; Sirius had always had roguish good looks and a well built frame in the old pictures she saw. But she couldn't help thinking that Regulus, who shared the same inky black hair, silver eyes, and noble good looks, seemed the exact opposite of his brother. His face was not expressive like Sirius's, who was always quick with a wolfish half-grin when he joked. Regulus's smiles had been small and slight, tugging at his lips before slipping back to the pensive mask. Where Sirius was loud and boisterous Regulus was calm and reserved: even stoic. He hid his emotions instead of wearing them on his sleeve. When Sirius was angry he howled with rage and threw fits, but Regulus never seemed to let his emotions show. Running his hands through his hair was one of the first significant emotional gestures he had made.

"He did. And I know exactly where that one is."

"Where is it? Is it guarded?"

"It isn't guarded necessarily, but it is well hidden. It's at Hogwarts."

"In the Chamber of Secrets?"

Hermione chuckled, shaking her head. "No, but that's a good guess. It probably would have been a good spot too. But clearly Parseltongue isn't going to protect his horcruxes anymore." She beamed at him. "That was absolutely brilliant, Regulus."

His neck grew hot and he shook his head. "You're the one who gave me the idea. I mean, asking a ghost was rather ingenious."

She blushed. "I had some help on that one."

He turned to her. "That reminds me. I spoke with my grandfather's portrait, Phineas Nigellus Black, and he says he knows you. That you brought his portrait back with you when you time traveled."

Her eyes widened and immediately her hands went for her beaded bag. She pulled out Phineas Nigellus's portrait and there he was, slumped against the muddy backdrop.

"There you are!" he snapped waspishly. "Forgotten about me already? Where's my grandson? Is he alright?"

She angled the portrait so that Phineas could see him and Regulus raised a hand in greeting.

"I'm perfectly fine, grandfather. You have nothing to worry about."

"Hmpf! That remains to be seen." He gave Hermione a rather nasty look. "You had better keep my grandson alive _this time_."

Hermione felt her eyes burn and shoved the portrait back into the bag.

"What did he mean by that?" Regulus asked her.

"He blames me," she said, trying her best to keep her voice steady. "Draco, Narcissa's son, died fighting Voldemort and several Death Eaters. He gave me the cracked time turner that brought me here. He sacrificed himself for me." She couldn't bring herself to look up from her lap, so she stared at her hands, hating herself.

"Hermione…"

She wouldn't look at him.

"Hermione," he said more firmly. She glanced at him and then back at her hands.

"He hasn't even been born yet. You have a second chance to save him and all your other friends too. And you're not alone in this."

She smiled weakly at him.

"Besides, I told Phineas that I'm in this with you. It's my choice, no matter what happens. None of it's on you."

Her face fell again and she fidgeted with the bottle, pressing her lips together, unable to look him in the eye. "Do you still have a death wish, Regulus?"

Now it was Regulus's turn to look away. A shadow fell across his face and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at the bottle in his own hands. Questioning himself, he wondered if it was okay to talk about it. If he could trust her. If he was ready to talk about it. But after what they had been through together, if he couldn't trust her, who could he trust? So he spoke and the words fell from his lips. "I joined the Death Eaters when I was sixteen. I had no idea what I signed up for. I thought I knew. I thought maybe it was even what I wanted. But it wasn't. It was horrible. It was exactly what I feared. I wanted out. But no one quits being a Death Eater. And now I'm trapped in it and it's…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "Unbearable. The things I've seen… You have no idea…"

"I have some idea," she whispered, rolling up her sleeve to reveal the word "mudblood" carved there.

He cringed and looked away from it. "You don't know the half of it…"

"I know more than you think, Regulus. Draco was a Death Eater too, the same as you. He was marked when he was sixteen. And he wanted out too." She wrapped her arms around herself as shivers ran through her, remembering the white scars covering Draco's arm. "Draco had a scar running down his mark. He had tried to kill himself at some point because he saw it as his only way out. He had more scars too, scars he gave himself, disfiguring the mark." She was quiet as Regulus covered his own wrist with his hand where they both knew his mark was branded into his flesh beneath the crisp white sleeve of his shirt. "But there's another way out of this. We can track down his horcruxes and destroy him."

"You make it sound simple. But there's more to it than that, Hermione." He smiled sadly at her. "I'm a marked Death Eater. They can send me to Azkaban without a trial for the rest of my life without any other evidence than the Dark Mark on my arm."

Hermione shook her head stubbornly, defiant. "We'll figure out a way to clear your name. I promise, Regulus." He glanced at her, those warm, caring brown eyes burning with a determined passion. "I promise I will make sure that does not happen."

"Do you really think this, what we're up against, has a fairy tale ending?" he gestured, finishing off his bottle.

"Not a fairy tale ending, no: but a good one." She smiled at him and he gave her a small smile in return.

The dark clouds slowly broke up overhead and they watched the waves glittering in the light, breathing in the salty air. "We need to figure out a long term plan then."

Hermione agreed with him. "I take it you have responsibilities back in London?"

He nodded grimly. "Amongst other obligations," he added quietly.

Her heart sank. She understood what he meant: he had to go back to doing Voldemort's bidding. If there were more horcruxes he couldn't disappear or join the Order of the Phoenix. She knew that Voldemort could kill him using the Dark Mark if his betrayal was discovered. "Regulus…" But she didn't know what to say. There were no words of comfort that could possibly make the situation better.

"It's fine. We'll need someone on the inside, right? It will help us figure out what he's up to so we can stay ahead of him."

Despite the urge to protest, Hermione nodded solemnly. "We have a deadline too, I'm afraid." She explained then, about all she knew of the Horcruxes, Voldemort's past and future, of possible horcrux locations, and the original day Voldemort was defeated by his own killing curse the night he tried to kill Harry. "So we have until October 31st, 1981."

He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "This is going to take a lot of time. We're going to have to do a fair bit of espionage too." He looked her up and down. "You're also going to need a convincing cover story."

She frowned. "Can't I just be a distant cousin or something?" He shook his head a little too quickly for her to not be offended by it. "And why not?"

"Because that's easy to trace. No, you should be a foreign witch. That should keep people from asking too many questions. Pureblood, new money, and of significant social standing, of course. Do you have any ideas?"

She thought, but the only foreign witches and wizards she knew decently well were Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour. She told him what she did know about the two of them and they created a simple, but believable back story that not too many British witches and wizards would look into.

Regulus thought it over for a while as they discussed possible identities for her. "Foreign and privately educated will mean most people won't ask too many questions," he told her when she asked about education.

"What about my accent?"

"We'll tell people you lived here for a portion of your childhood before moving abroad."

They discussed possible questions and answers about her false background and once Regulus was satisfied they gave it a rest.

Kreacher hadn't returned and Hermione made sandwiches from the ingredients left over in the fridge. As they ate, they continued to mull over possible complications.

"We're going to have to do something about your clothes too, and your living arrangements," Regulus remarked, glancing over her mugglewear with a frown.

"What's wrong with my clothes?" she asked, affronted.

He raised an eyebrow. "You dress like a muggle and even then your fashion is all wrong for this decade."

She conceded that he had a point. "And what do you mean by change my living arrangements?"

"It would be better if you were amongst wizarding society if you're going to go about all of this properly. The point is to not look like you're a spy."

"So what do you recommend then?"

"If you're a society witch and you're… how old are you exactly?"

She raised an eyebrow at his rudeness and he explained, "You look like you might still be school age."

"I'm eighteen."

He nodded. "Good. We can say you're looking to take the NEWTs at Hogwarts. That should get us an opportunity to get into the castle and speak with Dumbledore. And I can offer to help tutor you for them, which would give us an excuse to spend time together."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "It would be nice to actually take my NEWTs."

"We still have to figure out where you'll be living though."

Hermione gestured around the cottage as she chewed her bite of sandwich. "Can't I just stay here?" she asked. "I can apparate to London if needed."

Regulus shook his head. "No, it's not safe. If someone found out you were staying here in property owned by the Black family it would look… well, suspicious to say the least."

"But where am I going to stay in the meantime? I'm not going to have to live in Grimmauld Place with you and your parents, am I?"

His cheeks turned a distinct shade of pink. "No. We'll need to settle you in with some accommodation for someone of your… status."

"So where then?"

"My great aunt's. She's an elderly single witch in good social standing and it would give us another excuse to meet fairly often."

Hermione frowned, her social anxiety rising up within her at the thought of all this lying for room and board with Regulus's aunt. Still, she did need a place to stay, and it would give them more of an excuse to meet. "How do we make the arrangements? Do we send her an owl?"

Regulus shook his head. "No, we need a reason that's urgent and would explain why you don't already have a place to stay."

They talked well into the afternoon and once they had decided on a plan they set to work transfiguring and trashing a set of Hermione's robes.

Kreacher arrived back and gave them a hot meal. They shared their plan with him and then swore him to secrecy. To Hermione's surprise he seemed to take no issue with lying to Walburga and Orion.

After dinner Hermione changed into the robes they had transfigured into a more contemporary style and thrashed. She added a few more details to sell the story, including small cuts and a bruise on her left cheek. Regulus and Kreacher gave her a nod of approval when they saw the complete effect and then she handed Regulus Greyback's wand. She felt naked without a wand, but he had pointed out that if anyone recognized it she would run into trouble.

Kreacher apparated back to 12 Grimmauld Place and Regulus offered Hermione his arm for side-along apparition. A tingle of fear went through her as she took his arm and the smell of salt air disappeared. She felt the familiar sensation of being squeezed through a tight rubber tube and then air filled her lungs again as they landed in London.


	11. Chapter 11: Living the Lie

**Chapter 11: Living the Lie**

It was dark and rainy in London, which helped add to the effect for their story as they hurried down the street. Hermione shivered, thoroughly soaked, as Regulus led her along the narrow road and up to a townhouse tucked away past several expensive-looking shops. Nerves hit her and Hermione dug her nails into Regulus's arm as they approached the door.

"Start crying," he muttered and Hermione began to take big, choking breaths as tears welled in her eyes. It was easier for her to conjure tears than it had been back in Umbridge's office during fifth year.

He knocked aggressively, rattling the door, and after a minute a small house elf who reminded Hermione of an older Winky answered the door in a shift made from embroidered curtains. Regulus wasted no time. "Higgy, is my aunt home? Can you please fetch her: it's urgent!"

The elf looked from Regulus to Hermione, her large luminous eyes widening as they darted back and forth at the state of the two of them. With a rapid nod of her head Higgy let them inside before she disappeared up the stairs.

A moment later an older witch with silver streaks in her black hair came hurrying down the staircase. She looked a bit like Walburga's portrait in 12 Grimmauld Place, but she had smile and laugh lines where Walburga did not. Her icy silver eyes fell on Regulus and Hermione who was wiping at her tears as Regulus pointed his wand at her, healing the scrapes on her palms. Regulus looked up as he heard his aunt approach. "I'm sorry, Aunt Cassie, but this was the closest place I could think of."

"What happened?" she asked in shock at the shivering, sobbing girl: her robes torn, cuts and bruises covering her, tear stains running down her cheeks. She looked a mess: precisely as they intended.

"Filthy band of muggers. I think one of them might have been a werewolf though, and I wanted someone with some medical training to look her over. Can you-?"

"Yes, yes, of course. A werewolf did you say? Dear me…" She pulled Hermione into the sitting room and sat her on a striped pink settee. "Higgy, please fetch my supplies. Regulus, tell me everything while I attend to this poor girl."

Hermione cried harder as Regulus recounted the details and the witch put on a pair of spectacles and began to inspect her cuts. "I heard spells going off when I was walking and I ran to investigate and saw a bunch of men cornering her down an alley. She got some good hexes on them," he tried to smile reassuringly at Hermione before turning back to his aunt. "But there must have been at least five or six of them. And one of them was definitely snarling. I don't remember much of the fight-it was all a blur, but I hit the largest one with a bonebreaker and they all ran."

Higgy returned with a brown leather bag and Regulus's aunt opened it and took out a vial. "I don't think any of these are werewolf bites, but people don't realize that the scratches can cause terrible infections too." She dabbed at the scratch on Hermione's neck with a soaked cotton ball that smelled like sour milk. Hermione winced as it stung her. "You were right to bring her here. With werewolves you can never be sure what the effects will be if they aren't transformed. You don't want to get one of those new baby healers at St. Mungo's who can't tell Pepperup potion from gurdyroot juice. Don't worry dear, we'll have you right as rain soon enough."

Regulus handed his aunt various vials, only taking his eyes off Hermione when he had to look in the bag. "I can't believe I let them get away. I should have killed them."

His cold and vindictive tone sent a shiver down Hermione's spine that was not part of the act. She rubbed her eyes again as his aunt inspected the deep cut on her shoulder. "I-I can't thank you enough," she choked out. "Thank you for rescuing me, Mr.-?"

"Black. But you can call me Regulus."

He smiled at her and gripped her hand and Hermione felt her heart flutter unexpectedly. Apparently Regulus had inherited the Black family charm. Embarrassed, she turned to the woman attended to her wounds. "And thank you for helping me too." Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks and the woman brushed them away gently with her thumb. "Oh hush, dear. And you can call me Cassie too if you like. Only my worst enemies may call me by my full name."

She smiled at Regulus as he mouthed "Cassiopeia." Hermione hiccuped and tried to laugh, sniffing as she rubbed her eyes.

"Now tell me what happened so I can treat you properly."

Hermione fiddled with the torn piece of fabric at her knee. Lying was easier if she didn't have to look her in the eye. "It was awful. I only just arrived by portkey from France and I was supposed to get a room at the Leaky Cauldron, but I got horribly lost. I haven't been here since I was a child and it was dark," she sniffed and rubbed her nose. "I only just got in today and I didn't know where I was going and these men came out of the dark and I got scared. I just ran and-and then I was trapped and one of their spells threw me into a wall." She started crying again, covering her eyes with the hand Regulus wasn't holding. "And they disarmed me and they took my suitcase with all my money in it!" She sucked in a deep, quaking breath. "And now I don't even have my wand!" Cassiopeia dabbed a yellow paste on her cheek. "I feel so stupid. I shouldn't have been in London at night...everything...it's all my fault...I was so stupid!"

"Now, now, dear. It isn't your fault there's bad men in the world. We'll fix you up and you can stay with me until we figure out what to do." Cassiopeia glanced at the fingernail slashes on her chest and then turned to Regulus. "Why don't you go on home, Regulus. I can take care of her from here."

Regulus hesitated, squeezing her hand, but he nodded his head understandingly and turned back to Hermione who was averting her eyes from his gaze. "If it's alright with you Miss…"

"Krum. Hermione Krum."

He flashed her a warm smile. "If it's alright with you Miss Krum, I would like to stop by in the morning to check on you."

"She's in very capable hands, Regulus. Go on now." He said good night to his aunt with a polite bow, but Hermione could feel the intensity of his stare even after he left the townhouse. Now that she was alone with his aunt her heart began to pound in her chest. "Don't worry, dear. I was one of the best healers at St. Mungo's. You're going to be just fine." She wiped at the blood on Hermione's neck. "I'm afraid I'll need to undo your shirt to get a better look at these scratches." Hermione nodded as Cassiopeia melted away the fabric with her wand and she prodded at the scratches with the sour milk-scented swabs. She muttered what must have been a diagnostic spell and Hermione saw the glamour on her chest ripple and fade.

Silently thankful that her sleeves were intact Hermione fidgeted uncomfortably at the expression on Cassiopeia's face.

"Mother of Merlin. What happened, dear?"

Hermione tried to pull her shirt back over herself to cover the purple scar. "It-it was a long time ago. It's just a scar now." Cassiopeia gave her a stern look before she nodded and said no more, but there was a note of alarm in her eyes as she cautiously inspected the rest of Hermione's wounds. Not more than five minutes later Cassiopeia was setting her medical case to rights, having given Hermione a clean bill of health.

"Thank you so much. I don't know how to repay you for all that you've done." Tears glistened in her eyes and her voice was barely more than a whisper. "I can't possibly repay you for your kindness."

"Oh, hush, dear. It's no trouble to do a good deed. Now let's get you upstairs and into a nice comfy bed." Cassiopeia sent Higgy up ahead of them to prepare the guest room and once they had said good night and Hermione was left alone in the bed, staring up at the ceiling, she let the guilt and shame of the trick settle in on her and she shut her eyes, praying for a calm, dreamless sleep. Exhaustion won out over her anxiety and she drifted off. For once, Hermione did not wake up in the middle of the night screaming.


	12. Chapter 12: A False Introduction

**Chapter 12: A False Introduction**

The next morning she awoke to Higgy knocking on the door. The elf brought her a fresh set of robes and a dress that she suspected belonged to Cassiopeia. O1 nce she was dressed she joined the witch in the dining room.

Cassiopeia's townhouse was not large in the manner Hermione had been expecting, with several more floors than it ought to have like Grimmauld Place, but it was quite comfortable and expensively furnished as befitting Cassiopeia's status and sense of style. Light jazz music drifted in from the sitting room where a record was spinning on an antique victrola which projected two small figures dancing together into the air in front of it. Hermione had never seen magic quite like it and stopped on her way to the dining room to watch the talented dancers twirling about.

When she was seated Cassiopeia looked up at her and smiled radiantly. "Ah, good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?"

Hermione squeezed her hands in her lap and nodded. "Quite well, thank you, Miss Black."

"Cassie, please dear. I am much too old for any of that 'Miss Black' nonsense. Now," she paused pointing to a letter next to her, taking a sip of her tea. "Regulus has already sent an owl asking if he can call upon you this morning. He's such a sweet boy. But, I thought it might be more prudent if we make him wait until this afternoon. I'm afraid we will need to get you some proper clothing and a few other essentials beforehand. We can't very well have you wearing an old lady's frock," Cassiopeia grinned good-humoredly at her over her scone.

"But I haven't any money-those men, they took it all-"

Cassiopeia waved her hand. "Worry not, my dear. Worry not. It is no trouble to gift a young lady a dress and some proper robes. Now tell me, what brings you to London? Do you have a place to stay? Friends or family?"

Hermione bit her lip and stared down into her lap. "I came looking for a fresh start. My parents…" Her throat tightened as she thought about her real parents, who were now lost to her forever. She knew their younger selves must be in the United Kingdom, expecting a baby in a few months, but they could never replace the parents she had spent her whole life with, and she knew it would be wrong to try and contact the ones in this time. They would not know her. They were not _her _parents. She took a deep breath and pressed on. "My parents were killed not long ago."

There was a clatter as Cassiopeia set her cutlery down abruptly. "Oh you poor dear. Whatever happened?"

"They went on an anniversary trip up into the Alps, just the two of them, and...well the muggle newspapers said it was an avalanche that hit the town, but it was giants. My mother and father...they didn't make it." She squeezed her eyes shut and sniffed back the press of tears, running her fingers around the edge of her teacup. Cassiopeia waited patiently for her to gather herself before she continued. "I couldn't bear living at home anymore. All the memories and people sending their condolences...It was horrible. I needed to get away. And I decided to come here, to London. I was privately educated, you see, because my father was an ambassador for the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic. We moved around a lot, so it was difficult to have regular schooling. My mother couldn't bear sending me away: I was her only child. So I decided I would come here, to London. It's actually where my parents met and lived for a time while I was a young girl. I thought it would be good to get some distance...but clearly, I should never have come here."

"You poor dear. I read about that giant attack in the paper. Terrible. Absolutely terrible. An entire village wiped out. Absolutely awful. But you mustn't blame yourself for what happened last night dear. There are terrible people all over the world, no matter where you are. But there are good people too." She smiled warmly at Hermione who smiled gratefully back.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Cassiopeia released her and waved her hand. "Not at all. Now tell me, what were you hoping to find here, in London?"

Hermione nibbled on a scone. "I was hoping to get a job here. Maybe take the NEWTs and try to build a career."

Cassiopeia looked surprised. "But didn't you say your father was an ambassador? Surely your parents left you an inheritance?"

Regulus had told her this would come up, and yet a part of her was still surprised at the casual questioning of her finances. Hermione grimaced. "I'm afraid my father was a rather old-fashioned man. Any inheritance of mine has been set aside as a dowry. All I had was in my suitcase from selling the house, which was the one thing he did leave me."

"Well you seem a fine young lady. Did you have no prospects back home?"

Hermione made a face. "I'm not really interested in hunting for a husband as it were. I would rather see the world a bit more, use my brain, make a name for myself if I can." To her surprise, Cassiopeia practically beamed at her.

"As you should. Even a society witch should expand her horizons beyond matrimony and family. Although you might find that many of the noble magical families in Britain are a little more antiquated in their beliefs." She took a long sip of her tea before she continued. "I chose a career over marriage after I finished my schooling as well. I wanted to be a healer, you see. It was a terrible time in the world. Healers were needed more than ever, and even though it was frowned upon for a woman of my status to do so, I left for the continent to do my part." Her eyes became misty and for a long moment she was lost in her own thoughts. "But I have never regretted that decision."

Hermione glanced up at Cassiopeia curiously. "Did you marry after you returned from overseas?"

Cassiopeia's smile seemed to fall a little. "I have never married, no. But I have led a happy life nonetheless." The corners of her mouth picked up again. "Please, finish your breakfast. You'll need your energy for all the shopping I have planned this morning."

* * *

Cassiopeia had not been lying about that. She dragged Hermione up and down Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley as soon as they were finished with breakfast. Cassiopeia, although she had called the dress Hermione wore "an old woman's frock" had surprisingly good taste for young women's fashion. As the tape measure wrapped around her, Cassiopeia instructed the witch assisting them about the different styles and cuts she thought would suit Hermione best. Hermione felt it was a little bit extravagant, and yet there was something about swirling in the smooth silks and draped folds of the dresses and robes that made her feel like she did when she put on the periwinkle blue dress her mother had helped her pick out the summer before her fourth year at Hogwarts.

They left some time later with no less than eleven new dresses, seven sets of robes, and all other essentials, including some rather lacy undergarments that surprised even Hermione. She supposed she really didn't quite understand the nuances of high society fashion and brushed it aside as something she would have to figure out later.

Cassiopeia was apparently quite a regular in many of the shops, and as far as Hermione could tell, she knew how to tell quality items from the rest. With a forlorn look at Flourish and Blotts, Hermione let Cassiopeia drag her into a salon she had never been in before, fussing about trying to tame her hair.

Hermione's dread slowly faded as the kind witch with singing birds in her own beehive hairdo massaged a generous amount of Sleekeazy's into her mane. It took several attempts to comb it all through properly, but once it was, her curls were smooth and silky to the touch. The witch offered her advice to keep her strands from breaking and causing frizz, and suggested some sweet smelling potions to encourage healthy growth as well. Hermione had never really cared much about her hair, but she knew if she was going to play the part of a society witch she would have to look the part. She listened to the talk and lively chatter of the other witches in the salon with a curious interest. At one point she thought she saw Molly Weasley go by with a small red-haired child in her arms and a bag of shopping as well, but she was gone before Hermione could get a better look.

In the street Hermione could have sworn she saw a dark-haired witch pushing a stroller who looked almost exactly like Cho Chang, making Hermione do a double-take. Cassiopeia dragged her into a cosmetics shop as well and by the time they finished it was nearly noon and Hermione's arms were laden with boxes, bags, and parcels from a dozen shops at least. Hermione cringed away from Knockturn Alley when Cassiopeia suggested they head further down there for lunch, and instead they returned back to Cassiopeia's townhouse.

After lunch, Cassiopeia insisted on a fashion show of sorts, making sure Hermione tried everything on. She suggested ways to wear her hair for each look and showed her how to apply the cosmetics they bought in keeping with the style of "today's youth" as she put it. Hermione felt a bit flustered by all of this, although it was quite fun in its own way and she could tell that Cassiopeia was enjoying herself as she made Hermione smile much more frequently over the course of the day.

Cassiopeia told her to wear the pale blue silk dress for that evening, where Hermione was horrified to learn they would be visiting Regulus and his mother and father at 12 Grimmauld Place. "Oh. I thought Regulus was coming here," she squeaked in surprise when Cassiopeia told her.

"Yes, that was the plan, but then Walburga heard and demanded we introduce you properly." She could hear the mild disdain in her voice.

"Do you not get along with your sister?"

"Walburga, Regulus's mother, is my niece. Regulus calls me 'Aunt Cassie' for simplicity's sake. And she is a bit of a stern woman. Too harsh for my taste. Not very open-minded either. But she is family, and familial obligation demands that we be polite to one another."

"Well now I'm truly frightened."

Cassiopeia laughed and patted her on the shoulder as she inspected her new robes in the mirror. "Not to worry, dear. I'll protect you if she tries to bite." Hermione gave a half-hearted laugh and tugged her sleeves down further on her wrists, mentally preparing herself for the most terrifying and grueling dinner of all time.

* * *

With a flash of green flame they arrived in the large marble fireplace of 12 Grimmauld Place. As they stepped out of the fireplace the three Blacks who lived there were waiting expectantly. Hermione instantly felt Walburga's predatory gaze assessing her from top to bottom. Regulus and his father, Orion, bowed low in greeting. Walburga managed just enough of a polite curtsy as not to be rude. Orion, as the head of the household, stepped forward and introduced himself, his wife and his son. Walburga had a shrewd, proud face like a hawk and the sharp pointed shoulders of her black dress made her appear even more like a bird of prey waiting for a moment to strike. Orion, on the other hand, reminded Hermione of a great black bear. He was exceptionally tall, although Regulus stood an inch or so taller than him now, as his body had gone slightly to seed. Yet he still bore the noble air of a man of great respect, with his finely combed black and grey hair and tidy goatee and moustache. Seeing the man in person, Hermione thought that Sirius and Regulus took more after their father, although both parents bore similar features, like black hair, grey eyes, and angular cheekbones.

Regulus gave her a pleasant, poised smile which she returned as she stepped into a dignified curtsy with Cassiopeia.

After Cassiopeia introduced her they were seated at the dinner table. Hermione and Cassiopeia occupied one side of the table and Regulus sat opposite Hermione at his father's left side. Orion sat at the head of the table and Walburga sat at the other end, carefully watching Hermione's every move as she arranged her dress and sat.

A bottle of wine floated around to each silver goblet marked with the family crest. Regulus smiled politely at her and said, "It is good to see you again, Miss Krum. You look quite well."

She smiled back and said, "Thank you, Mr. Black. I am indeed quite well thanks to you. And your aunt." She snuck a small grin at Cassiopeia beside her, who patted her hand.

"Yes, Regulus told us all about the terrible incident from last night. It sounds like it was a lucky thing that Regulus came by when he did," Orion beamed proudly at his son. "Was it true there was a werewolf amongst them?" Hermione nodded and Orion blanched. "A werewolf in the middle of London? Terrible. Absolutely terrible. They should all be rounded up and put down like the beasts they are if you ask me."

Hermione tried not to think about Remus Lupin as he said it. A small voice in the back of her head agreed with him in the case of Fenrir Greyback though.

"There was only one werewolf though, father, and it was not a full moon," Regulus reminded his father. "The rest were mere men."

"Yes, best to round them up too, and the rest of us will all sleep safer in our beds," quipped Cassiopeia.

Walburga frowned and Hermione noticed the small satisfied smile Cassiopeia wore at riling up her niece.

Orion turned to Hermione again. "I hear you are new to London. Where exactly were you coming from, Miss Krum?"

The soup appeared in front of them, piping hot and comforting as Hermione took in the familiar scent of Kreacher's cooking: potato and leek soup with a dusting of parsley on top.

"I came from Bulgaria. But I was actually raised in London for a time as a young girl before my father was reassigned."

"What does your father do?"

Hermione set her spoon down carefully. "My father recently passed away. My parents were on holiday for their anniversary in Switzerland and they were in the Alps when giants attacked the village they were staying in. Neither of my parents survived."

Everyone except for Hermione and Cassiopeia froze. Hermione wondered how much of Regulus's reaction was acting; a quick glance at his face showed a jumping muscle and a look of concern that did not seem forced. He had not asked her what specifically happened to her parents in her time, but he knew she may never get to see them again now that she was trapped in the past. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said gently, his eyes shining with compassion.

"Yes, we offer you our sincere condolences," Orion said, picking up his spoon again.

"What did you father do before his passing?" Walburga asked in a compassionless tone. Orion and Cassiopeia shot her a glare across the table. Regulus had warned her of his mother's impropriety in advance; not that Hermione needed reminding after spending time with her portrait.

Hermione turned to her calmly, setting down her clean spoon again. "My father was an ambassador for the Magical Liaison Office in the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic. He was on assignment here for a time when he met my mother. She was researching Cornish Pixies at the time. She was a foreign witch and they ran into each other at the ministry."

"And where is your mother from? Was she a British witch?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. She was French. Her maiden name was Delacour and she lived most of her life in France." She resisted the urge to smile as Walburga scrunched her nose when she told her her mother was French.

"And where were you educated?" Orion set his cup down a little more forcefully than was necessary, giving his wife a reproachful look.

"I was educated privately. My parents' work required them to travel a fair bit while I was growing up. My mother hated the idea of sending me off to boarding school since she had so little time with me already due to her travels. Although I've heard excellent things about Hogwarts."

"Yes, Miss Krum intends to take the NEWTs to pursue a career here," Cassiopeia stepped in, trying to divert away from the obvious interrogation into Hermione's background.

"I would be happy to help you prepare if you need a tutor," Regulus offered, also trying to diffuse the interrogation.

"How old are you? You seem to be of marrying age."

"Walburga!" Orion raised his voice in warning as everyone else around the table froze.

Hermione's face and neck grew hot. Everyone besides Walburga seemed to feel embarrassed for her.

Walburga ignored this. "If you are of age you need not concern yourself with educational pursuits at this point, assuming of course you come from a reasonable background and your parents left you a dowry."

"That is enough, Walburga!" Orion was fuming under a mask of bone-chilling restraint. His sharp icy grey eyes pierced the uncomfortable silence left by Walburga's rudeness.

"I am eighteen, Mrs. Black, so yes, I am of age and my parents left a great majority of their wealth and assets in a dowry so that I would be able to make a good match when it came time for me to marry. However, I feel that my personal talents and skills would be better off put to use helping wizarding society like my parents, which is why I came to London to pursue a career. Perhaps that is not the custom for a young witch of my station, as I understand many British witches of pureblood society marry around my age, but there is still much of the world I would like to see and a great number of things I would like to do before I settle down. One of which would be finishing this soup before it is ice cold. In that regard, if you have any further questions about my pedigree and aspirations, please ask away."

There was a moment of stunned silence, but Hermione met Walburga's harsh gaze and did not waver (although she did hide her shaking hands beneath the table in her lap).

"Are you a pureblood witch of legitimate noble birth?"

"Yes."

"Are you engaged or otherwise betrothed to anyone?"

"No."

"Do you have any special inheritable skills or magical abilities that run in your bloodline?"

"Yes, I have a gift with divination, but I am afraid it is good for little more than party tricks."

"Show me."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, but closed her eyes and adopted her most Trelawney-like pose, jutting her chin into the air and equipping the least comical misty voice she could.

_"Serpents sleep in hidden places,_

_Staring down I see scorched faces,_

_Three heads watch your family from the walls,_

_Your voice will linger in these halls,_

_The Black blood runs deep, as does its scorn:_

_A year from now, new blood is born."_

It was the best she could do on the fly, but Hermione thought the gas lamps and the sound of rain helped with the ambiance. She smiled a little to herself and shrugged as she opened her eyes and looked at Walburga's raised eyebrow. "Like I said, it's a fun party trick. It's not good for much else."

Walburga's pinched face eyed her carefully, but Hermione picked up her spoon and brought it to her lips, sipping the lukewarm soup. She could not help but feel a small smile tug at her lips as if she had passed some test she had not been able to study for.

Three sets of eyes lingered on her before picking up their own spoons. "Do you work for the ministry, Mr. Black?" Hermione asked, steering the conversation back to Orion as he gave her a measured look.

The rest of the meal passed without further interrogations. Hermione was well aware that all of the Blacks, especially Walburga, were watching her closely after that, but there were no further incidents that caused great embarrassment or tension. She took the opportunity to discover more about Regulus and his family. She learned that Orion had a seat on the Wizengamot and he was grooming Regulus to follow in his footsteps once he retired. Three days a week Regulus went to work with his father to learn and develop a deeper understanding of the work. Walburga did not mention what she did in her day to day activities, and no one seemed to want to bring her into the conversation again. They never mentioned Sirius once and Hermione did not ask about any other family members besides those present. By the time the treacle tart came around the conversation was rather pleasant and everyone except for Walburga was smiling cheerily.

When Hermione saw the treacle tart she glanced at Regulus, surprised he remembered her complimenting Kreacher's cooking. It tasted divine and she relished every mouthful. A part of her felt guilty for enjoying it though: it had been Harry's favorite, but she reminded herself that he might get to enjoy it in the future if everything worked out.

After the meal was finished Orion led them back to the marble fireplace in the drawing room. "Where will you be residing while you are in London?" Walburga asked as Cassiopeia took a handful of floo powder from the proffered jar in Orion's hands.

Hermione was caught off guard by the question, but luckily Cassiopeia stepped in and took Hermione's hand. "She'll be staying with me if you need to reach her." And then before Walburga could say anything in response she bid them good night and pulled Hermione into the green flames after her.

* * *

"That went well," Orion grumbled with a dark look at Walburga. "Did you get all the information you were after?" he asked menacingly.

Walburga turned to him, unabashed. "Yes."

He poured himself a glass of scotch and left the room without so much as another word or a glance back at his wife.

"Regulus."

He had turned to follow his father up the stairs, but froze at her voice.

"You will call upon her again. Is that understood?" Her sharp tone did little to conceal the threat in her voice.

"Yes." His hackles rose, but he kept his voice calm and measured as his mother's eyes lingered for a moment on the emerald green flames dying down in the fire.

* * *

"That went horribly!" Hermione exclaimed, plopping herself down on the settee in the sitting room, burying her face in her hands.

Cassiopeia laughed and Hermione looked up through her fingers. "I think it went swimmingly!"

Hermione balked at her. "Did you see the way she looked at me? I thought she was going to breathe fire at one point! And then I ran my mouth off and now she must despise me." She let out a groan.

"Hermione, dear, believe it or not, I think you did quite well. I think she may even like you."

"What?!"

Cassiopeia shrugged. "Trust me, dear. I think that went better than you realize."

Hermione scoffed and ran her hands through her hair, panicking. What would happen if Walburga forbade Regulus from seeing her? What if she tried to sabotage any attempt on her part to contact him? She cursed herself for not giving him a magic coin, but it would have contradicted her story about not having any money if she walked around with a fake galleon in hand.

"Regardless, it seems like Orion liked you well enough. And Regulus seemed rather interested in you as well. Perhaps we should invite him out to go wand shopping tomorrow, seeing as we didn't have time for it today. Ollivander's process for wand selection can take a very long time, you see. What do you say, shall I send an owl tomorrow morning?"

"Do you think his mother would let him come?"

She laughed. "I'm telling you, it will be alright. I'll send the owl to him. We'll make a day of it."


	13. Chapter 13: A New Wand

**Chapter 13: A New Wand**

The next morning Cassiopeia sat at the table with a soft boiled egg in front of her, her spoon hovering in the air as she read the newspaper in her hand, frowning. "Is everything alright?" Hermione asked as she sat down.

"More muggle killings. But they found the body of a wizard too, someone named Wilkson. Authorities say it was a case of fiendfyre getting out of control. Nasty business. Lots of injuries too from the sound of it." She sighed and set the paper down, returning to her breakfast. "Sometimes I wonder if I retired too soon. There's always a need for healers out there."

Hermione chewed her lip. "Do you think you could teach me some medical magic? It seems silly to me that education doesn't cover such an essential set of skills."

"Of course, dear. I won't be able to teach more advanced medical magic, but I think we'll be able to cover the basics all right." She smiled at her. "Of course, you'll need your wand first. And I already received word from Regulus and he says he would be happy to accompany us." Hermione nodded and finished her breakfast quickly so she could go dress. She was eager to get a new wand, but more importantly, she needed to talk with Regulus.

* * *

Regulus met them at a cafe across from Ollivander's wand shop. He greeted them politely and offered to buy them a cup of tea, which they accepted. As the tea arrived, Cassiopeia was joined by another elderly woman who was clearly a friend of hers as the two struck up a lively conversation and wandered off to their own table.

Cassiopeia told the two of them to take their time and handed Hermione a small purse so she could pay for her wand. As the two of them walked over to the shop, she noted that Regulus kept a formal distance from her and held the door for her as she entered.

There was a line at the counter where two twin girls were waiting to get wands as an older man in front asked about a problem he was having with his own wand, which looked like it had been chewed on by a dog. Regulus and Hermione hung back by the shop window, whispering to each other in the small bubble of Regulus's silencing charm.

"Was it just me, or was that a huge disaster last night?"

Regulus chuckled. "You clearly don't know my mother that well. Believe it or not, that was her behaving herself."

Hermione shook her head. "I thought she was going to murder me. And then I went off like I did…" She groaned and put a hand to her forehead.

Regulus couldn't hold back his smile. "You did fine. Really well, actually. My father likes you. I think he said something about "gumption" and "upstanding moral fiber" after your response. And please, on behalf of my mother, let me apologize for the way she treated you."

Hermione shrugged. "I knew what I was getting into. Or at least I had a good idea."

"They approve of you, I think."

"They wouldn't if they knew the truth."

Regulus said nothing and they watched as the twin girls stepped up to the counter excitedly as their mother stood off to the side.

"How did you do that divination trick? I mean, you seemed to know a lot about my house."

"I lived there for a time. And I helped clean it up, so I know a bit about it."

"You lived in my house? But the only person alive at the time was Sirius…" he trailed off, a queasy look on his face. "You weren't…." He swallowed hard, trying not to imagine it. "You two weren't...together, were you?"

Hermione blanched. "Ew! No! Sirius was middle aged by the time I knew him. He was my friend Harry's godfather. It's a long story, I'll tell you about it later," she said, motioning to him as the twin girls stepped back with their wands, waving them excitedly as their mother ushered them towards the door.

Hermione approached the counter with Regulus. Ollivander had mostly all white hair, with a tinge of color to it still and he smiled at her. There was something about Ollivander that always set her a little on edge though, like there was a greedy hunger in those watery eyes of his. "What can I do for you, miss?"

"I need a new wand."

"What happened to the last one?"

"It was taken from me."

He frowned, but nodded and didn't ask anything further about what happened to it. "What type of wand was it?"

"Vine wood and dragon heartstring."

"Who was the manufacturer, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Gregorovitch."

He made a face and shrugged, turning around and plucking several boxes off the shelves. He laid them out before her and said, "Well, come now, give it a go." Her hands immediately went for the vine wood one she recognized as her own. She picked it up and gave it a wave...but nothing happened. At least not the way it was supposed to. Hermione stared at it, dejected. This _was_ her wand. She knew it; but for some reason, it did not know her.

Ollivander snatched it out of her hand and Hermione had the sudden urge to grab it back, but restrained herself. She tried the rest of the vine wood wands with the same horrible results. "It seems we need to try a different approach," he said, a mildly interested expression on his face. He brought several different kinds of wood: ash, poplar, cherry, sycamour, spruce, pine, rosewood, walnut, yew and Hermione tried them all, but all she managed to do was make a mess of Ollivander's shop. The wandmaker on the other hand, did not seem deterred. He brought out his measuring tape it measured every part of her arm and hand, bending this way and that. Regulus watched with keen interest: he had always been interested in wandlore and was growing more curious as the stack of tested wands grew higher and higher.

Hermione grew more and more frustrated, but Ollivander gave her a curious look and did the measurements again, asking about her last wand and how it had performed in different areas of magic. "It worked perfectly. It always did. It was always reliable, no matter what I tried." He nodded, interested, and asked her more questions about her aptitudes in different magical subjects. She tried another batch of different kinds of wood: sugar maple, snakewood, reed, hornbeam, redwood, laurel, pear, larch, and on and on it went.

A line had started to form and Ollivander had to shoo people out of the shop and tell them to come back later. He put the closed sign on the door and continued handing her wands. Each time he handed her one she became more dejected, but Ollivander became more excited. "It's been ages since I've had a tricky customer. You're really putting my skills to the test, Miss…"

"Krum. Hermione Krum."

Ollivander handed her another batch and she picked them up one by one and gave them a wave. Hermione looked at Regulus fearfully. "What if I can't find a wand that works?"

"We'll find one, Miss Krum. Don't you worry!" Ollivander said, climbing up a ladder.

She waved a black walnut wand and again nothing happened. Setting it gingerly back on the counter, she waved the next wand. And the next. And the next. Finally, Ollivander went into the back room and pulled out a few boxes. When those didn't work either, he gave her a strange look, ducking back behind the curtain.

When he came out he was clutching a dusty box in his hand and he opened it carefully, setting the box before her on the counter as if he were presenting a sword. Hermione automatically reached out to give it a try and then stopped herself, her hand hovering above the wand. She recognized this wand. She knew it well. "No," she whispered, shaking her head as she looked at Ollivander's intrigued expression. "No, not this one," she murmured to herself. But she knew that this was the one. This was the one that would work when all others had failed and she knew it in her bones. She could feel the warmth of the magic calling to her. _But it can't be this one_, she thought to herself. Her fingers wrapped around it and a surge of magical energy shot through her arm. _Of course it was this wand. It had to be this wand._ Golden sparks burst from the tip of it at her touch. Ollivander's eyes shone with awe as it did.

"This is...most interesting." Ollivander looked from her to the wand with an expression of delight and excitement that she found revolting. "This wand is very interesting, Miss Krum. That this wand has chosen you...speaks a great deal about what we can expect from you. This wand has a phoenix feather core. And it is the same core-"

"-As Lord Voldemort's wand," she finished.

The wandmaker's eyes grew round. "How did you-?"

"Don't tell a soul that you sold this wand to me. Not a soul." She dropped the galleons on the counter and quickly left the shop. Regulus followed closely behind.

Cassiopeia passed by them briefly and mentioned that she was going to join her friend in the apothecary for a little while, leaving them time to chat. During the brief exchange Hermione politely showed her the wand, which Cassiopeia praised as a very handsome one, and Hermione gave her thanks for the purse she had given her. As Cassiopeia and her friend, Agatha, walked away towards the apothecary Regulus led her to a small table where they could talk without being overheard. He still put up the silencing charm just in case.

"What's wrong? Why does the sight of that wand bother you?"

She chewed on her lip, looking down at the wand in her hands. "It's Harry's wand."

"Your friend from the illusion? The one who's Sirius's godson?"

She nodded glumly.

"And it's connected to the Dark Lord's wand?" He still couldn't say the name.

"It shares a core feather from the same phoenix. Dumbledore's phoenix: Fawkes."

"And because of this connection, you're worried that it means it will create a bond between you and the Dark Lord?"

"It already has a connection. Harry fought against him several times and his wand protected him of its own volition. He told me about it, how this wand seemed to recognize its brother when they fought."

"Maybe… maybe it's a good omen, this wand choosing you. Maybe it will protect you from him."

She shook her head and twisted the wand in her hand. "I think it means I'm going to have to be the one to face him."

Regulus's eyes lingered on the wand as if it were an omen of ill fortune. "It seems fate has bigger plans in store for you than rescuing me." Tearing his eyes away from the wand he saw a muscle in her cheek twitch, her brown eyes full of fear. He was overcome with the sense that despite the brave face she put on, beneath her determined exterior, there was a part of her that knew, really _knew, _what she was up against and what it would mean. She stared at the wand in her hand like it was a death sentence.

He looked around to make sure no one was watching and grabbed her hand. "Hermione, it's not going to happen that way again. I promise." He did not smile at her in an offer of comfort, but wore a hardened, solemn expression. Because even if he didn't understand all of what she'd seen, she understood. He took his hand away and Hermione stowed the wand in the pocket designed for it on the side of her dress.

"Regulus…" she began, trailing off and biting her lip. "There's more that you need to know. More that I need to tell you…" She couldn't look at him. She couldn't. "But I'm not ready to talk about all of it yet," she admitted, her voice losing its strength as she took a long shuddering breath in and held it.

"I understand." His eyes followed her gaze down to her hands in her lap where she clutched at her wrist: the same one he knew held the scar. He knew better than to ask. He had his own secrets he kept hidden. And yet he couldn't help but think that as the two of them sat there surrounded by adults much older in years than they, that both of them bore more damage than time ought to allow.

Pushing his chair back so that it scraped against the stone pavers, he straightened his coat and offered her his hand. "Come on," he said.

Broken out of a deep trance, she gripped his hand and stood, pushing her chair back in. "Where are we going?" she asked as he began to lead her away.

"Florean Fortescue's. My treat." They wandered back down the street a while later with ice creams in hand, remarkably cheerier than after they had exited Ollivander's.

* * *

Cassiopeia and Agatha joined them for a 'tour' of Diagon Alley as Regulus pointed out all the different shops, pretending to be her guide. They stopped outside Eeylops Owl Emporium to admire the different owls. There was a beautiful snowy owl that reminded Hermione of Hedwig and even a little tawny owl that reminded her of the one she liked to use at Hogwarts to send home to her mom and dad.

They finished their ice creams and wandered along the street, past shop windows full of quills, cauldrons, telescopes, and all manner of magical items. Hermione and Cassiopeia had to tug Regulus away from a new broomstick display in Quality Quidditch Supplies. "Did you play at school?" Hermione asked, pretending not to know the answer.

"I did. I was seeker for Slytherin's team."

"You must have been a very skilled flyer then."

"Still am," he said with a hint of pride. "Do you fly?"

"Only under extreme duress and dire circumstances," she said, giving him a pointed look before remembering that he had been unconscious for their flight out of the cave. He raised a curious eyebrow but she shook her head and they moved on until Cassiopeia complained about aching feet and she took Hermione back to her townhouse. Once again, Hermione was reluctant to see him go.

* * *

"You two seem to get along well," Cassiopeia mentioned as she unpacked her shopping and reorganized her apothecary cabinet.

"He's been very kind to me," she said, cautiously. "I feel like I owe him a debt for saving me."

"Yes," she paused, smoothing a label with her thumb. "He's a very kind boy, all things considered."

Hermione glanced up at the comment, uncertain if it would be out of place to ask. "Pardon my asking, but what makes you say that?"

Cassiopeia sighed and refilled a jar with fresh salamander eyes. "It's complicated. He hasn't had the easiest upbringing, as I'm sure you can imagine with my niece as his mother." Hermione said nothing, but she understood. Screwing the cap back on the jar, she continued. "Your vision of sorts from last night was not far off the mark. Scorn does run deep in this family. Trust me, I know: it is a crime to waste good breeding in pureblood society. And I have lost more than one family member because we are so stringent upon our beliefs." She put back the jars and closed the cabinet, sighing sadly. "Regulus has an older brother, Sirius. He was the heir, but the boy rebelled against Walburga and Orion's beliefs. He was punished, severely, for not obeying them. Walburga blasted him off the tapestry, he ran away for good, and Regulus was made the heir in his place."

"She did that to her own son?" Hermione knew of it, but having been in that house under the scrutinizing gaze of Walburga Black, she understood on a deeper level what it must have been like for Sirius… and Regulus, to grow up in a home like that.

"She has done many terrible things to her sons." The grave tone of her voice fell heavily upon the room, but she said no more on it; instead, she stared out the window watching the street outside. After some time she turned back to Hermione and attempted a smile. "Honestly, I am not sure which of them is better off. Regulus's goodness is a true testament of his character and soul. He is a reserved young man, like his father was. But I must admit, I have enjoyed seeing him smile as of late." She flicked through her records before selecting one with a faded red cover, smiling to herself. "And I am sure it is better for you to be around people your own age and not old ladies like me."

"Cassie-"

"It's alright, Hermione. It is the natural order of things. I am not offended. Besides, it has its advantages. I get to pass on my wisdom to those worthy of it. Now let's try out your new wand and I'll give you your first lesson in basic medical training."

Hermione was a quick study and Cassiopeia was very impressed with her ability to cast a basic diagnostic spell. She shared tips about healing to minimize scarring and discussed the merits of wandwork over potions or enchanted items. She also gave Hermione a large medical text on common magical maladies, injuries, illnesses, and afflictions. Hermione stayed up late into the night reading it, utterly fascinated.

The next morning she talked excitedly with Cassiopeia about what she had read. "Can dragon blood really be used in transfusions to help cure magical illnesses?"

Cassiopeia nodded. "Yes. It was a discovery that helped cure many diseases."

"But what about this part where it says that only wizards and witches can catch certain magical diseases, like Spattergroit and Dragon Pox? Are muggles really immune to them?"

That line of questioning took nearly an hour to explain, and even then Cassiopeia suggested they visit the bookstore soon to pick up a few books on the subject, much to Hermione's great enthusiasm.

Later on, Hermione sipped her tea and read her new medical books as Cassiopeia wrote letters to her friends and family. "Cassie, do you have a moment?"

"Hm?"

"Where did you learn about werewolf bites and scratches? I can't seem to find anything in the texts about the effects of untransformed werewolf attacks."

"It was something I learned during the war while I was working as a healer on the continent."

Hermione looked up in surprise, but Cassiopeia kept writing out her correspondence on a long sheet of parchment. "I had a friend who was bitten and scratched by a werewolf outside of the full moon."

This caused Cassiopeia to perk up and look over at her. "Did your friend survive?"

"Yes, I danced at his wedding not long after. Apparently the only side effect besides the scarring was a craving for rare meat."

Cassiopeia looked at her curiously. "And have you come across a lot of werewolves in your eighteen years?"

Hermione glanced away. "I...I've run into a couple, but not many."

"And what is your opinion on the treatment of creatures like werewolves in wizarding society?"

Blood pounded in her ears. She knew she was being tested, but she wasn't sure what the correct response was. "I try not to make judgements about groups as a whole. It is better to judge case by case."

"And the werewolf who attacked you. What do you think should become of him?"

Hermione swallowed and tried to focus on the textbook in front of her and not the scent of foul breath on her face and long, sharp nails at her throat. "What I think and what is just are two very different things."

Cassiopeia studied her for another moment before turning back to her letters. "Not many people can separate the individual from the pack as you can. Most would say something similar to Orion about killing the beasts. I remember the first time I met a true werewolf. It was during the war. Werewolves were hunting in packs and they raided a village I was in. I attended to one of the villagers who was attacked. He was a young boy, maybe four years of age. He transformed while I was attending to his wounds. I had to restrain him with iron manacles and chains. No sedative would work. He died the next morning after he had transformed back into a little boy."

She let out a deep, distraught sigh then, setting down her quill and closing her eyes. "It's important to be able to look at a situation objectively. Especially since we are such subjective creatures ourselves."

"My parents always believed that it was important to keep an open mind. It's one of the reasons why they loved to travel so much: it taught them more about the world and the different perspectives in it. They gave me the opportunity to learn that there's no one right way of viewing something or someone. Everything is relative."

Cassiopeia gave her an appraising look and smiled. "Wisely worded, my dear. And too true. You will find far too many people in this corner of the world have not stepped foot elsewhere to discover that for themselves." She turned back to her table and handed Hermione a piece of parchment and an addressed envelope.

"If you would like to write a letter inquiring about taking the NEWTs, I would be happy to pass it along to Professor Dumbledore. He's the headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and I'm sure he can help answer all of your questions."

Hermione thanked her and took the parchment and envelope back up to the guest room upstairs. For a long while she held the quill in her hand, hovering just above the paper. She knew she needed to meet Dumbledore in person, but this letter was her introduction. Dumbledore did not know her yet. And although she had developed a festering resentment of Dumbledore with his riddles and impossible missions, she knew she would need his aid and that of the Order of the Phoenix eventually, and sooner was probably better than later. But she had to receive an invitation into Hogwarts. Voldemort was powerful and his influence was expanding daily; it was possible there would already be protections up at Hogwarts barring outside intruders, Death Eaters or not.

Chewing her lip she finally set to writing her letter asking about the possibility of meeting with the headmaster about taking the NEWTs. She added a postscript down at the bottom. "_P.S. I recently purchased a wand from Ollivander and was told that the phoenix tail feather in its core came from your phoenix, Fawkes. I found it interesting and thought you might like to know._" She reviewed it twice before putting it into the envelope and sealing it. If it was intercepted she thought the code was subtle enough that no one would be the wiser.

* * *

Dumbledore's response came two days later, as did another letter addressed to Hermione in neat, tidy penmanship. It was an invitation from Regulus to accompany him to a mid-summer gathering for former Slytherin graduates at Horace Slughorn's country estate. Hermione groaned audibly before she could stop herself and Cassiopeia looked up from her own stack of letters with curious concern.

"Something the matter, dear?"

Hermione's cheeks turned pink and she said, "Regulus sent me an invitation to join him at a party. And… I'm always nervous meeting new people. I'm afraid of looking like a fool or saying the wrong thing."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it too much, dear. Plus it will be a nice opportunity for you to meet other people in our society. You should go. It will be good for you."

Hermione nodded, then opened Dumbledore's letter. Her heart hammered in her throat as she quickly read through the lines of emerald green ink.

"And what did Dumbledore say about taking your NEWTs?"

"He says I can take them at the school with other Hogwarts students taking a second attempt near the end of August. And he's agreed to meet me to answer my questions and show me where the testing will take place."

"That's very generous of him. When is the meeting?"

"On Friday at noon. Would it be alright if I went for the whole day though? I would love to see Hogsmeade. I've heard it's one of the few communities in all of the United Kingdom that has an entirely magical population."

"Of course, dear, of course. You are a free woman. You don't need to go everywhere with me in tow. It's a very nice place, Hogsmeade: lots of good shopping in the village, and it's perfectly safe, I assure you."

Hermione excused herself to go write her responses, carefully folding the note so that the postscript Dumbledore had left telling her he was most interested to hear about her wand's connection to Fawkes would not be visible to Cassiopeia.

She sent a letter back to Regulus accepting his invitation and added a note informing him that she heard back from Dumbledore regarding her NEWTs:

_He has kindly offered to meet with me this Friday at noon. I must admit that I am excited to see Hogsmeade, as I have heard it has an entirely magical population and is home to the most haunted building in the United Kingdom: The Shrieking Shack._

She added in a few more formalities to finish it off and signed her name. She couldn't risk putting in a time without being obvious about asking him to meet, and a part of her was terrified that Walburga or Orion would intercept the letters.


	14. Chapter 14: A Necessary Deception

**Chapter 14: A Necessary Deception**

Friday came around and Hermione apparated to Hogsmeade in a light, more practical dress for the warm summer weather. She had never been to Hogsmeade in summertime before and she loved the sight of window boxes all around her filled with flowers and dripping in green vines. It seemed to be a bit of a tourist attraction in the summer when the students weren't crowding the place, and she watched the many witches and wizards wander around with their children in bright, colorful fabrics. Many wizards even wore mugglewear and shorts instead of long robes. Witches, on the other hand, tended to wear dresses of a more vintage, 1940's fashion, despite the time period. Hermione was glad she had gone shopping with Cassiopeia and learned about the current fashions before wandering about in wizarding communities alone. She would have stuck out like a horse amongst hippogriffs.

It was still well before she needed to make her way up to the castle and she headed over to the Shrieking Shack. Leaning against the rickety fence she thought about her trip into the shack where she met Sirius Black for the first time. Even if it wasn't really haunted, it still felt like there were ghosts of her own lingering here. It made her sad to think about her friends and how everything had seemed so hopeful for once before it all came crashing down. She wished that Sirius and Harry could have had more time together and that Lupin could have stayed to teach at Hogwarts. It was a small comfort to think that if she was lucky...very lucky...this time around, they might get to have all those things and more.

"I thought I might find you here," came a voice at her side that made her jump and shriek in alarm. Regulus blinked in amused surprise before a smile tugged at his lip. "Apologies. I thought you heard me coming."

Hermione took a deep breath to steady herself, unclenching her hands from the fence posts as she relaxed.

"Looks like I gave you quite a scare. This place isn't actually haunted, you know. There's no need to be frightened."

"I am not frightened," she snapped, embarrassed. "And I know it isn't haunted. I've been inside it before," she contested hotly.

He raised an eyebrow, but kept his hands behind his back in a dignified air of nobility. "What exactly do you know about this place?" he asked cautiously, his voice level.

"Probably more than you," she said wryly.

"You really think so?" he challenged.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and stepped closer so she wouldn't be overheard, despite the fact that they were alone in the clearing. "I know that your brother and his friends are more than meets the eye."

"That doesn't really prove that you know anything."

She gave him a mocking smile and then leaned in to whisper into his ear. "I know about Remus Lupin's furry little problem."

Her breath was warm on his neck, tickling and sending a sharp zing of electricity through his body. Regulus suddenly felt uncomfortably hot in his jacket. "So you do know. And the others?"

When she pulled back she gave a satisfied smile, looking back up at the boarded up building. "Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs? Yes, I'm aware. I'm surprised that you know. I thought the only person that knew was Snape."

"You know Severus from your time?"

Hermione blinked at him. There was still so much she hadn't told him. "Yes. I know him. Sort of. Is that how you know?"

Regulus stepped closer to the fence and shook his head, giving himself an extra step away from her as he did. "No. I figured it out pretty quickly during my second year. I'm good at noticing what most miss. And the four of them were never very subtle about it, calling themselves by those stupid nicknames all the time. Honestly, it's a miracle the whole school didn't know. They were so obvious about it." He shook his head in irritation.

Hermione chewed on her lip as Regulus remained lost in thought. "Regulus, can I... can I ask you something? About Sirius?"

His face darkened, but he'd been expecting this at some point. "You may."

Picking at the flaking paint on the fence she asked, "What exactly happened between the two of you?"

He sighed and shook his head so that his hair covered his eyes. "That's a long and complicated story. One we don't have time for at the moment. But since we were just discussing the Shrieking Shack, suffice to say that it creates a rift when your brother puts your best friend in mortal danger."

Hermione nodded, but said nothing.

"Do you want to get a drink in town before you go up? I thought it might be a good idea to discuss strategy."

Hermione glanced back up at the Shrieking Shack, understanding his desire to leave, and she agreed. They walked back into town, but tried to keep their discussion to polite topics, like the NEWTs. Regulus had received top marks in his year at Hogwarts and Hermione was quite impressed. When he started to lead her to the Hog's Head instead of the Three Broomsticks, she paused and he turned towards her to see what the matter was. "Well, it's just, what if we're overheard? I think we should go to the Three Broomsticks to avoid someone eavesdropping."

"It will be fine. I won't be able to hear you in there. Trust me, this is better." He held the door open for her and she felt her whole body tense as the seven other occupants turned to look at her: an old man with a shiny bald head and a leather eyepatch, a witch with several warts on her face, a man with green mossy hair, three wizards in grey traveling cloaks and large mustaches, a beady-eyed witch with a belt around her waist that held violet colored potions, and the thin barman with stringy grey hair and beard.

Regulus led her to a table close to the bar, away from the other patrons. He ordered two butterbeers at the counter and left a generous tip before returning to their table. Hermione pulled out her wand and muttered, "_Muffliato_," flicking her wand under the table so it wouldn't be seen.

Still, Regulus leaned in and whispered to her. "I don't think we should tell Dumbledore what we're up to while we're here. I think it would be best if we can sneak into the castle unnoticed."

"I can't sneak into the castle. I have a proper appointment with him to discuss the NEWTs! Now, I think I should sneak into the room where it is after the appointment. Dumbledore won't know and I have the invisibility cloak to hide myself."

"What if he walks you to the front gates afterwards? You won't be able to get back in. I think I should take the invisibility cloak and follow in after you and Dumbledore. If you tell me how to get in, I can get it while you two have your meeting."

"It might not work like that, Regulus. In my time, Dumbledore had wards up to keep out Death Eaters. You could be badly hurt and I don't think it's worth the risk. Plus, it might be in a different spot in the room and the room is massive! And it's filled with all sorts of items. It could take hours or days or weeks to find it!"

"But we don't have that kind of time."

"Exactly. I know you want to help find this one, but I think I'm going to have to go in there by myself. Here," she opened up her beaded bag and put a gold coin in his hand. "This is a communicator. I'll contact you if I need you and we'll figure out a way to smuggle you into the castle. But for right now I think this is our best option."

"Fine," he said in a measured whisper, but she could tell he wasn't pleased about it. "I'll wait here. Have you decided how much you're going to tell him?"

"Hopefully as little as I can get away with. I'll keep your identity a secret, but we will need to tell him eventually if he's going to help clear your name once this is all over."

"And what if he asks about you? Your past and where you're from? What will you tell him?"

"I'll tell him the story we made up. It should be enough. Dumbledore's very trusting."

"And what about the other big problem lurking beneath the castle?" he asked in a low voice, glancing around uneasily.

"I'll figure something out. Leave some cryptic clue on a wall or something if I can't do it myself."

"You're not going to just go in there after it alone are you?"

"Of course not! Besides, I have a plan and a backup just in case I don't have time. It shouldn't be hard. You don't need to worry."

"Hermione!" he hissed, a warning look of concern flashing in his eyes. "Don't put yourself at risk if you don't have to. That part can be dealt with later. We need to focus on our current goal."

"I know! Really, Regulus, it will be fine. And I have to go now or I'll be late!" She undid the spell and turned to go, leaving Regulus in his seat as she turned on her heel.

"Good luck." She flashed him a quick grin and pushed on the door. He saw the bold look in her eye and felt his stomach turn over. "And don't forget about the rooster!" he shouted, although now without the spell the entire bar turned to look at him oddly and a silence fell as they looked from him to the swinging door and back again. Regulus ignored them and put his elbows on the table, running his fingers through his hair and shaking his head. Now he had to wait and see.

Hermione saw Dumbledore standing at the gates leading up to the castle. Deep plum robes and a matching pair of bell bottom trousers were the only real distinction of the time period in his sense of fashion. He had a little bit of grey still left in his hair and beard and he smiled warmly at her as she approached. "Miss Krum, I presume?" he asked with a polite bow.

Hermione curtsied and nodded. "Professor Dumbledore." Her heart beat rather harder in her chest than she would have liked, but she supposed it would be normal to be a bit nervous in this situation.

She asked about the history of the castle and the grounds as they approached it and Dumbledore told many stories about Hogwarts and the founders as they climbed up the stairs and through the halls to the headmaster's office.

Hermione sat in the chair across from his desk and pretended to stare admiringly at the many instruments and collections of volumes around the room. "Is that Fawkes?" She pointed to a small baby bird with a scarlet head and a poof of crimson feathery down. "He's a beautiful little bird."

Dumbledore smiled at him. "Yes, he is. I'm afraid he just had a burning day not too long ago, so he isn't quite his usual handsome self." He folded his hands on his desk and looked back at her. "And I hear you already know of him from Ollivander after you received your new wand. Might I have a look at it?"

Hermione nodded, glad that her plan had worked: she knew he would be intrigued to see the wand that was connected to Voldemort's and meet the witch it had chosen.

"And how has it worked for you so far?"

"It's worked quite well."

"Holly. Eleven inches. A fine wand, indeed. I hope it serves you well in the times to come."

Her eyes flashed to his, wondering what exactly he meant by it, as he handed it back to her. She thanked him and put it in her pocket.

"Now, Miss Krum, please tell me about why you are here."

"I'm interested in taking the NEWTs and I wanted to know more about the tests and the environment before taking them so that I might better prepare myself."

He gave her another warm smile. "You seem to be a very bright witch, Miss Krum. I think you will do just fine in your NEWTs if you are actually interested in taking them."

Her smile faltered. She tried to keep her breathing even. "Of...of course I'm interested in taking them. Why else would I be here?"

The pleasant smile never left his face. "Perhaps to take a look around the castle for something? Perhaps because you'd like to discuss exactly what it means now that the wand you carry has chosen you? And I suspect there are things you would like to tell me. Like why there is a Death Eater waiting for you back at the Hog's Head."

Hermione had never felt more afraid of Dumbledore than she did in that moment. His calmness unnerved her more than if he had stood up and yelled at her. Thinking quickly, she knew she had to abandon her plan, but she could not give him everything. Some things still had to be secret.

Straightening in her chair she said, "This must seem like an awfully familiar meeting. Back when Voldemort came to you to ask for a position here."

His eyes twinkled in surprise as she said the name, but he made no comment.

"I promise you this is not the same, although I am here for a similar reason as Voldemort was then."

This time his eyes narrowed.

"There is something I need to find here. I know where it is-roughly-and you need to see it. But it has to remain a secret. No one can know."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, but she said nothing as she stood, glancing up at the portraits of former headmasters as they feigned sleep. Phineas Nigellus frowned at her and she shook her head imperceptibly. She took out her beaded bag then and pulled out the invisibility cloak. "This may seem silly to you, Professor, but I need you to get under the cloak so I can take you and show you what you need to see."

"And you expect me to trust you, just like that, Miss Krum?"

Hermione stared at him, hard, forcing back the bubbling hatred and resentment she felt for him. "I'm not one to play games, sir. You may not trust me now, but once you've seen it you'll understand. Now, please," she held up the cloak and feeling a bit foolish, put it over both of them and led him out of the headmaster's office.

They headed quietly along, passing Peeves, the Grey Lady, and Filch along the way. They went undetected and when they got to the seventh floor across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls how to do ballet, they stopped. Hermione said the command within her head as she turned and paced three times in front of the large swatch of stone wall, leading Dumbledore behind her. The door appeared and she opened it as Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in surprise but said nothing as she led him inside.

They ducked out from under the cloak and Hermione was surprised to see that Dumbledore still held a piece of it in his hand, staring at it was awe rather than at the things around them. "This is a fascinating cloak, Miss Krum. Truly incredible. Might I-"

"James Potter has the hallow."

He shot a look of quiet alarm at her and his lips parted slightly as if he were about to ask something, but then thought better of it and closed them again.

"It should be this way," she said, stuffing the cloak back into her bag. She passed the stuffed troll, stacks of fanged frisbees, a crate of firewhiskey, old jars of crusty substances gone bad, and many, many more lost and forbidden items. She noticed differences from the time she was here with Draco, but they were minor and of little importance. Sticking to her goal, she searched the rows until she found the cabinet that looked like it had had acid thrown at it, but there wasn't a bust or a tiara on top of the cabinet. "It should be somewhere around here."

"Pardon me, Miss Krum, but do you mind explaining what 'it' is and where we are exactly?"

Feeling antsy, she reached into her bag once again and pulled out the locket she had destroyed with Regulus's help. She handed it to Dumbledore to inspect. "That...is a horcrux. Or it was. And it belonged to Voldemort. Originally it belonged to-"

"Salazar Slytherin?" he guessed, touching his thumb to the ornate crest.

"Yes, it was his. But it was passed down through the Gaunts and eventually came to be in the possession of a woman named Merope. She was Tom Riddle's mother. She sold it and he tracked it down years later. He's the one who killed Hepzibah Smith," she added as she remembered how her house elf had been blamed. She moved around the piles of junk as she talked, looking carefully so as not to miss the diadem. "Regulus Black discovered that Voldemort had created that one and we destroyed it." Hermione shifted several books and a stack of boxes that held fireworks. "And it's not the only one Voldemort made. If I'm correct, and I believe I am, there are five in total that he has made and hidden. And one of them is hidden here. That's why he came back to the school: to hide one of his horcruxes."

Pausing to wipe sweat from her brow, she turned and saw Dumbledore staring at her very warily, as if she were unhinged.

"I know that was a lot of information to take in, but can you please humor me for a minute and look around for a tiara with a big blue jewel. Don't touch it if you find it."

He nodded slowly, examining the locket in his hands with care before helping her search.

Hermione kept scanning the high stacks until she saw a chest tucked away in a corner. Moving aside the stacks of quidditch magazines and a pack of cards that snapped at her fingers, she recognized it as the chest that had held the jewels she used for the containment ritual. Something clicked in her mind as she pulled back the latch and it swung open to reveal gold, silver goblets, jewels, pearls, rings, and there on the top was the diadem of Ravenclaw, its blue jewel twinkling at her as if a living flame flickered just beneath the stone's surface. Remembering how she found Draco, she leapt back and pulled out her wand.

"It's here! Professor, over here!"

He appeared at her side and leaned forward examining the diadem through his half-moon spectacles. "Is that...could it be...But how?"

"Don't touch it," she warned. "But this is...the Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw. It must be."

"Not anymore. Now it's one of Voldemort's horcruxes," she said darkly.

"How and where did he find it?"

Hermione shrugged and levitated it with her wand. "Not sure. Can you set up a few protective spells in that corner?" She pointed to the same one she and Draco had used before. Dumbledore took out his wand and waved it in intricate patterns, muttering in several different languages as he wove a complex net of spellwork around the area. Carefully, she set the diadem down in the center and pulled out the smooth basilisk fang from her bag. Without ceremony she knelt down and stabbed the jewel in the very center.

The diadem exploded with light just like before and Dumbledore pulled her back from it as beams exploded like volcanic hot spots all over the metal surface. Hermione and Dumbledore were both breathing hard and Dumbledore's glasses sat askew on his crooked nose. Righting them, he looked to her and then at the diadem.

Once they had both regained their senses, Dumbledore turned to her and said, "Miss Krum, I do not know how you know all that you do, but I believe you now." He looked at the remains of the diadem and gave a deep, contemplative sigh, stroking his beard. "Horcruxes." Turning to her, he stowed his wand. "And you say there are five in total, which leaves three more?"

Hermione nodded and levitated both the locket and the diadem into her bag. "And no one else can know. If word gets out about this, Voldemort will hunt us down before we can destroy them all. He might even make more to buy himself time."

Dumbledore nodded, stroking his beard thoughtfully again. "And do you know the whereabouts of the other three?"

"I don't have that information yet."

"I would be happy to assist in this-"

"I believe you, but I don't think that's wise. If Voldemort catches on that you're digging up information on him, it could tip him off. He fears you above all others. I'm sure he has spies trailing you."

"It seems I am not the one he should fear."

Hermione's lip twitched. She did not want his praise or his compliments. There was a time when she would have felt differently, but not now after all that she had lost.

"We will need help, eventually. I suspect there will be a fight at some point. We'll need the Order then."

He nodded, no longer surprised that she knew secret information that she otherwise should not have.

"If we defeat Voldemort, Regulus and I will need you to vouch for us."

Again he nodded understandingly. "I can do that."

She pulled out the cloak again as they reached the door. "I'm afraid we have another stop before I go."

Dumbledore stopped, his expression difficult to read. "Surely Lord Voldemort has not hidden anything else in the castle?"

Hermione winced at his words. "I'm afraid so."

They made it to the bathroom on the second floor and to Hermione's surprise Moaning Myrtle was apparently not haunting her usual toilet this afternoon.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I assume you have brought me here for a reason?"

Hermione nodded. "I suppose I thought Elizabeth would be here. She usually is. She loves telling her death story."

"I am aware of the death of Myrtle Elizabeth Warren that occurred in this bathroom."

"And I know that you suspect Hagrid is innocent of that crime and that his creature was not the one who killed her?"

He nodded, his eyes shining, curious.

"That's because Tom Riddle opened the Chamber of Secrets when he was here. The entrance is there."

She checked the faucets and sinks until she found the one with the serpent on the side of the tap. "This one," she tapped the chipped edge of the sink. "This one covers the trapdoor that leads down a series of pipes. At the bottom there is a chamber that holds a statue of Salazar Slytherin. Inside the statue or somewhere around there is a giant basilisk. That's what killed Elizabeth. Not Hagrid or his spider. He's innocent."

Dumbledore was quiet, processing what she was telling him. "I have never believed in divination or second sight as some may call it, but I daresay that you might have just changed my mind." He paused again, thinking as he touched the serpent emblem. "You know, Miss Krum. I do not usually offer teaching positions to those so young, but if you are interested there is an open position for Divination as a professor here at Hogwarts."

"I'm afraid I will be otherwise occupied," Hermione smiled grimly, holding up her bag. "And I really do want to take the NEWTs at the end of August. But I suspect you will have no trouble filling the Divination position. Very shortly you will meet a Seer looking for a job. Just don't be too surprised when the interview is interrupted."

Dumbledore shook his head and chuckled to himself, positively beaming at her. "Is there anything else I should know about?"

Hermione chewed on her lip and then jumped as she remembered something. "Oh, yes. Take this. Cepheus can open the entrance with Parseltongue. Just promise to send it back to me when you're done." She pulled Cepheus's portrait from her bag and handed it to Dumbledore. Regulus had let her hold onto it since they destroyed the locket, figuring it would come in handy again.

"And you'll need this too." With a wave of her wand she pointed at the open window and performed a summoning charm. A moment later a startled red rooster zoomed through the window and into Dumbledore's outstretched hands.


	15. Chapter 15: Secrets Revealed

**Chapter 15: Secrets Revealed**

It was all over the _Daily Prophet_ for the next several days: "Rooster to the Rescue" and "A Secret in Plain Sight" along with other such fanciful headlines covered the newspaper stands.

Everyone in Diagon Alley was talking about it when Hermione and Cassiopeia went out to tea with Agatha and Caleen, two older widowed witches with whom Cassiopeia was friends. Caleen, a tall dark skinned woman with dimples put four sugars in her tea she was so excited to talk about the story. Agatha too leaned in to discuss it, brushing back her short white hair around her ears, revealing opal earrings. "Can you believe it?! I mean, the beast was down there for hundreds of years without anyone noticing! How does that even happen? It must have been massive!" Agatha pointed at her copy of the _Daily Prophet_ on the table with a boney finger.

"I just don't understand what they could possibly mean by 'in light of new evidence' in that case of the dead girl. It's been decades since she died. How can there be any new evidence?"

"Well apparently her ghost still haunts the place where she died, Aggie, so it isn't out of the realm of possibility that the creature had been near her."

"Something about it isn't right to me. Dumbledore just decides to go about renovating that bathroom one day and happens upon a secret entrance to a massive underground chamber?! I mean, really? How did anyone not notice this grand secret entrance to a chamber the first time they installed the bathroom plumbing in the first place? Indoor plumbing wasn't around when Salazar Slytherin was."

"Maybe people did know, but only a select few who were descended from Slytherin. Maybe they hid it when the plumbing was first being put in to make sure no one discovered their secret." The older ladies looked at Hermione curiously and Caleen nodded slowly as she thought it over.

"You know, it would not surprise me. A secret like that, someone must have known. I doubt someone just stumbled upon it one day if they were setting the basilisk on mudbloods."

Hermione didn't even wince at it now. The slur was so commonplace in this time she heard it muttered at least once every time she passed by the street vendors. Cassiopeia never seemed to use such slurs, and part of her wondered if that was because she found it impolite to use such language in Hermione's company when she did not know her all that well, or if was undignified to use such language for a woman of noble pureblood birth in polite company. Either way she made no indication as her friend continued on.

Cassiopeia had been quiet most of the morning, and Hermione wondered if the news had disturbed her more than the others. Some people had found it humorous when they saw the image of the rooster on the front page of the Quibbler framed like a hero. But others, especially those that had attended Hogwarts as students or else sent their children there, had been terrified and outraged at the news. Apparently the secret existence of a monster that can kill just by looking at a person did not inspire confidence in the school's governance. A recent article had talked about the school board governors launching an investigation.

One part of the many articles that was not discussed in the open air was the fact that Dumbledore believed it was Lord Voldemort who opened the chamber when the basilisk killed Myrtle Elizabeth Warren.

When Hermione and Cassiopeia were eating lunch back at the townhouse Cassiopeia set her fork down and studied Hermione. "Is everything alright?" Hermione asked after she had finished her bite of pasta.

"Hermione...might I ask what happened when you were visiting with Dumbledore about your NEWTs?"

This set Hermione on edge a bit as she had already told Cassiopeia about the trip to Hogwarts to discuss her NEWTs with Dumbledore. "Of course. He told me I could take up to nine, but with the limited amount of time until the test I was thinking I would take seven-"

"Will you be testing for Divination?"

Hermione chewed slowly, giving herself time to think before she answered. "No, I wasn't planning to."

"But surely with your natural talent for the Second Sight, you must have considered it and discussed it with Dumbledore?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not really. Like I said, it's mostly a party trick. I doubt half of it amounts to anything at all." Silently she cursed herself for her stupid joke back at 12 Grimmauld Place.

Cassiopeia studied her from behind folded fingers. "True Second Sight is a rare gift, even among witches and wizards. It is a highly revered skill by some."

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't think it would help me much in my career."

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow. "And did you happen to demonstrate your gift for Dumbledore while you visited him?"

Hermione set her silverware down and creased the napkin in her lap. "You think that I had something to do with Dumbledore's discovery of the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Well, I find it a strange coincidence that he found and managed to kill the basilisk on the same day as your visit."

Hermione nodded slowly; she had had a suspicion that this might happen. "While we talked about my skills and interest in different subjects I did mention my party trick and he asked for a demonstration. It all sounded like silly nonsense to me, but it's possible that what I said may have inspired something. People read into it what they will in my experience. No prophecy is a guarantee, only a possibility. I still believe our choices define our actions more than fate does."

Cassiopeia nodded, her piercing gaze assessing Hermione. "So you don't always know what it means, these prophecies you make?"

Hermione's stomach twisted. "No. People read into it what they will. Most of it is too vague for me to actually understand."

"And the night we had dinner with my niece? Did you know what any of it meant?"

Hermione shook her head, playing dumb. "Not really. And I know I shouldn't have done it. I was incredibly rude and disrespectful."

"So was Walburga. I think you were not out of line. And your 'party trick' seems to have had some truth to it otherwise Walburga would have been far worse."

"That's a relief," she muttered darkly.

Cassiopeia chuckled and then grimaced. "Do be more careful with who you share your gift with, though. Not everyone may see it as just a clever 'party trick' as you put it. Many witches and wizards have been driven mad by prophecies."

Hermione nodded, knowing all too well how true that statement was. She made a note to be much more careful in the future.

* * *

Regulus was walking home when he felt the mark burn. Hissing in pain, squeezing his eyes shut, he felt the pull and apparated, letting the blood magic guide him.

His feet landed on the floor of a room he recognized: the dining hall in Rosier's manor. Dark wood covered the walls and all the portraits had been removed from their nails. Regulus wondered if Voldemort had requested that or if Rosier had done it himself.

"Any idea what this is about?" came a drawling voice beside him. He turned to see Severus Snape, his hair hanging in black curtains around his head, standing next to him.

"No, but I have a feeling we're going to find out." He had a pretty strong hunch it was about the basilisk, but he wasn't going to mention it to Severus.

More people appeared around them and Regulus motioned for the two of them to take their seats.

When the Dark Lord made his entrance everyone rose and bowed. "Be seated," the Dark Lord hissed angrily. A collective shiver went through the people gathered around the table: they knew what it meant when the Dark Lord was displeased. They sat.

The Dark Lord stared around at the table, as if trying to select a victim. "Lucius, you will stay when I am through with the rest."

"Yes, my lord," came Lucius's voice.

Voldemort glowered down the table. "No doubt you have all heard by now that Dumbledore has found the Chamber of Secrets underneath Hogwarts and killed the basilisk that slumbered there." Everyone at the table sat perfectly still, like stone statues. "It was I who opened the chamber while I was at school. It was I who set Slytherin's monster on the mudblood girl." There were murmurs around the table and Voldemort waited, reveling in their surprise. "I am a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin. It is I who found the chamber, opened it, and controlled the serpent within. And I had plans to infiltrate the castle and do it once more to finish off Dumbledore while the old fool was none the wiser. But it seems that underestimating Dumbledore has set me back again. We will need to devise a new plan to destroy him and take control of Hogwarts. Until then, I need spies to watch his every move. I don't think the old man just figured it out on his own in a single day. He had help. I want him watched. Severus."

Severus sat straighter in his chair. "My lord?"

"You are my most accomplished legilimens here. In a few weeks Dumbledore will hold interviews for vacant positions. You are to apply for one and tell me all that you can discover. Do not fail me."

"It shall be done, my lord," Severus said coolly.

"Rowle. I want you to tail Dumbledore when he leaves the castle. You are to report back to me about his movements. Do not be seen. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my lord," came a deep, grumbly voice from the end of the table.

"Mulciber, Avery, Nott, Dolohov, Rosier, and the Lestranges will stay behind with Malfoy to help devise a new attack on the school. We have planning to do. The rest of you, get out of my sight."

All but those listed and Regulus stayed behind. Severus raised an eyebrow at him, but Regulus told him to go with a look. Severus nodded and vanished.

"What is it, Black?" said Voldemort's high cold voice. "I did not tell you to stay."

Regulus bowed. "Forgive me, my lord, but I have information about the castle that could be valuable for your attack."

"I know the castle better than any student who has ever wandered its halls. I have found more of its secrets than any other. What could you possibly know that I would not?"

"I am sure you are correct, my lord. But there is a secret way in that I believe is a recent addition. It leads into the grounds through an underground passage in Hogsmeade from the Shrieking Shack. To get past the Whomping Willow at the base of the passage on the grounds one only needs to prod the large knot on the trunk."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed and he was quiet for a moment. "Good work, Black. Now go. You are dismissed."

Regulus bowed again and apparated away. He arrived at the patch of sidewalk where he had left off and let his feet carry him along the concrete. His heart pounded in his chest now that the danger was over. He breathed a sigh of relief that his gamble had paid off. The existence of the secret passage was valuable information to Voldemort and Dumbledore knew about it and the fact that Severus, now a Death Eater, also knew about it and would likely tell Voldemort about it.

He slowed his pace, realizing he was walking faster mired in his own thoughts. The point of walking home instead of apparating was simple, but effective: it took a long time. He told his parents he enjoyed the night air and that it was good for his health, but the truth was he loathed that house and was willing to do anything to stay away from it for as long as he could.

* * *

Now that Hermione had the NEWTs to prepare for she and Regulus were able to see each other again for study sessions in the library at 12 Grimmauld Place. Regulus found that with her there he didn't mind being home as much. Hemjk8 had made sure to schedule their study sessions during times when his mother would be out of the house, although he had a strong suspicion she had left Kreacher with instructions to spy on them.

The elf, however, was holding true to Regulus's request for secrecy regarding his mission with Hermione. Although, it seemed he had still not quite forgiven her for pointing her wand at Regulus back at Kraken Cove Cottage. She tried once again to apologize to the elf when he came by with a tea tray, but he slunk away before she could get the full apology out into the open. Regulus smiled like he was enjoying a private joke as he watched her face fall.

"He's never going to forgive me, is he?" she asked glumly, staring at the hallway Kreacher had just disappeared down.

"He'll come around. He's not quick to warm up to people and he can be overly protective."

"True," Hermione agreed softly, turning back to the study materials laid out before her.

"I keep forgetting that you know him."

Hermione shrugged. "I wouldn't say that I knew him well. He avoided me or called me 'mudblood' for most of our time together. _This _Kreacher isn't quite the same. I think it was unimaginably painful for him, losing you."

A muscle jumped in his jaw and he felt immense guilt weighing on his heart at the thought of what must have happened to Kreacher after he died in her time.

"He cares for you a great deal. And I think you care about him too." She studied him carefully, aware that she had upset him. "I've never met a wizard like you, Regulus."

He looked up at her.

"You are very decent to Kreacher in a way most wizards I know never were."

Regulus frowned. "You must not know many decent wizards then."

She chewed her lip and turned a page in the charms textbook, remembering Dobby and the Malfoys and even Sirius's treatment of Kreacher. "I guess I just haven't met many who think about house elves as creatures with feelings. So many that I've met have been treated brutally."

"If you want to know the true mark and measure of a man, look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals."

She blinked in surprise.

"What?" he asked, realizing she was giving him a bewildered look.

"It's just...Sirius said something similar once."

Regulus scoffed lightly. "Well that's no surprise. My father repeated it plenty of times over the years when we were young. It was what he would say after one of us was caught bullying someone else."

Hermione blinked.

"What?"

"It's hard to picture you as a bully."

"We were much younger then. I'd like to think I grew out of it."

She chuckled and turned another page, but Regulus still watched her, curious. "You seem to care a great deal about Kreacher's opinion of you. Most witches and wizards don't concern themselves with the opinions of house elves."

"Well I think they deserve to be treated properly, as all those with thoughts and feelings should be." He smiled again, glancing up from the page he was reading about animal transfiguration. Pushing her curls back from her face, she continued. "I've always cared about the treatment of other creatures and people. There's a great deal of injustice regarding their rights and protections in wizarding laws. I even started a club at school to try and create some change for Hogwarts house elves, but I couldn't get a lot of people interested."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I would have joined."

"Really?"

He grinned, amused by her enthusiasm. "Probably, if you had asked me. Does that surprise you?"

"A bit, actually. I guess I assumed you would still say 'no' on principle since I was a Gryffindor and you were a Slytherin."

The corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile. "Would you have even asked me to join in that case?"

Hermione felt her face flush and she opened her mouth to protest before shutting it again at the coy expression on his face. "Probably not," she admitted, dejectedly. It was true: the house rivalries kept Gryffindors and Slytherins from being friends. "Would we have been friends?" Her voice was quiet and she looked at him slightly crestfallen.

"I'm not sure. Probably not, if I had to guess."

She nodded sadly and returned her eyes to the page, although they seemed to look through the book. "I guess there's more than one type of prejudice plaguing the halls of Hogwarts," she muttered bitterly, folding her arms across her chest.

When she did not seem to surface from her mood after a few moments Regulus frowned. "Hermione, are you alright?"

"No," she admitted, running her hands through her hair with a sigh.

"What's wrong?"

"It's just...I always thought that you would be my friend, if I had met you."

"I am your friend."

This too caused her to have a somewhat startled and puzzled reaction. "Are we friends?"

He gave her a wry smile as he raised an eyebrow at her. "Hermione, you saved my life. I think the least I can offer you is my friendship."

Her cheeks turned pink and she ducked her head back down, tucking a loose curl behind one of her ears. "I suppose that makes sense."

He chuckled and then after a pause asked her a question. "Why do you think we would have been friends?"

She shrugged, but the crimson stain flooding across her cheeks told him she was embarrassed. "Well, you reminded me of my friends. And when you found out that Voldemort had hurt Kreacher, you did everything you could to try and stop him. You even drank the potion yourself knowing what it would do to you. You chose to do it anyway. I thought you were really brave."

Regulus looked away feeling a hot flush creep up his neck. "You make me sound like a hero, not a stupid teenager in over his head."

She smiled at him, but he couldn't meet her gaze. "If you want to know the true mark and measure of a man, look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals," she recited.

The blush in his cheeks was impossible to hide. "I suppose I walked into that one."

Hermione chuckled. "There were other things too, based on the way Kreacher adored you, but also what I learned from staying here." She gestured around the room. "I know you were a good student, well-read, organized-"

"Organized?" he looked up at her and she froze. "Hang on. Have you been in my bedroom?"

Hermione went bright red. "Well yes. Ron, Harry, and I saw the same initials on the door as the ones on your note and we went inside to look for the real locket." She was crimson as she tried to defend herself. "And you weren't living there anymore, so I don't think it was inappropriate."

He smirked at her discomfort. "Relax, I'm not upset or anything. It's just surprising. It's strange to think about a person I've never met poking around my room. But I get it. You and your friends were looking for the horcrux. It's not like you were sleeping in my bed," he joked, picking up a quill.

Her unnatural stillness made him glance back at her. He balked. "Really?" he hissed as Hermione fumbled with her hands in her lap, positively crimson.

"Well, yes! When I first arrived here Mrs. Weasley, my friend Ron's mum, put me in there because all the others were taken. But it was only for one night! The next morning Sirius found out and got really upset and there was a big row and I moved into the other spare room where Ginny was staying."

They were both extremely embarrassed.

"If it makes you feel better, it was very uncomfortable trying to sleep in a room filled with that much Slytherin green."

That broke the tension and he laughed, shaking his head at her as her blush began to slowly fade. "Well you better get used to Slytherin green because Slughorn's party is in two days."

She groaned.

"It won't be that bad. I'll stay with you the whole time and it won't be nearly as terrible as you think. Besides, we need to introduce you to society so we can start learning more about where the horcruxes might be."

"Will there be talking, schmoozing, gossiping, and Slughorn's coma-inducing speeches?"

"Yes, but there will also be alcohol."

She laughed. "Well then I suppose I'll manage."

There was a moment of silence and then Regulus turned to her, a concerned look on his face. "There will be dancing there. You can dance, can't you?"

"Yes, I can dance. We had a lesson with McGonagall before the Yule Ball during my fourth year."

"One lesson? Oh dear."

Hermione frowned. "It's not like anyone's going to force me to dance."

"That's exactly what they'll do."

She scoffed. "They can't make me."

"You can't very well refuse. This event is about introducing and ingratiating yourself to the rest of the people there. As new blood everyone will be watching you. And yes, you are expected to dance. It's customary for all young pureblood witches to receive dance lessons as a part of their education. If you're going to pretend to be a pureblood witch, you'll have to play the part convincingly." He passed a hand through his dark hair. This could all fall apart in an instant if she couldn't play the part. Snapping the book in front of him shut, he stood up abruptly. "Come on. We're going to practice."

Before Hermione could object he closed her book and nodded his head to the stairs. "Come on. You have to be convincing. Otherwise you'll blow your cover story."

With a sigh she relented and followed him upstairs. He opened the doors into a beautiful gallery lined with Black family portraits. Phineas Nigellus stared at her with disapproving eyes as she walked around inspecting the impressive magical objects within the room.

Regulus waved his wand and the piano in the corner struck up a tune.

"Is it alright for us to be in here?" she asked nervously.

"If my parents come in I'll tell them I'm helping you learn a traditional English dance that they might not have taught you on the continent. But hopefully that won't be necessary." He pointed to a spot on the polished floor across from himself. "The beginning of every dance starts with a bow and then a curtsy," he explained before dipping into a polite bow.

Hermione tried very hard not to roll her eyes as she curtsied across from him.

"And then I extend my hand and invite you to join me to dance and you step forward to accept it."

She did so, taking his hand, surprised at the rough calluses she felt as she gripped it. "Not too tightly." She loosened her grip, taking a deep breath.

In a smooth motion he pulled her hand up into the starting position and stepped forward to take her waist. A jolt went through her at his touch and she tried very hard not to show it as he instructed her to grip his shoulder. His face and tone were very businesslike as he told her how to hold herself and the basic steps, but her heart was pounding in her chest at his lightest touch.

Gripping her firmly he began to lead her into the basic steps of the dance. Hermione stumbled a little as her breath caught in her throat. She was very aware of the small amount of space between them as well as every part of his skin that touched her. The hard lines of his jaw and cheekbones were even more prominent this close and she could smell the scent of his cologne with a hint of wood smoke from the library fire lingering on him as well.

"Pick up your feet, darling," came a voice from behind her, throwing her off guard and causing her to step on Regulus's toes. He winced and she apologized profusely, but he waved it away and they started back where they left off as more voices came from around the room as the portraits, woken by the music and their arrival, became invested in the dance training, shouting out tips and encouragement.

"Don't look at your feet!"

"Stand tall now!"

"Good posture!"

"Nicely done! Way to be light on your feet!"

Hermione's blush deepened at the extra voices.

"Don't worry about them. Just look at me."

She did so, her brown eyes captured in his steely grey ones. And to her surprise it was much easier to tune everything out and focus on the flow of the dance as she held his gaze. The intensity of his focus on her was not intimidating at all, but reassuring. Her body relaxed and soon the steps came easily to her as she focused on him and only him. And as they moved and spun, soon she felt herself pulled in by his gravity. The corners of his mouth tugged into that charming smile of his and she was lost, all else forgotten in the moment: there was only this dance. Gone was the mission, gone was the threat looming over them if they should fail, gone were the losses she carried, gone was the grief, gone was the worry and the fear that kept her company day and night.

He spun her away from him before drawing her back in again, his hands firm and steady upon her.

She felt light as her feet drifted effortlessly beneath her across the gleaming marble floor tiles.

His smile grew broader as they danced, as if moving together was second nature. "I think you may have misled me," he accused.

"What makes you say that?" she asked cheekily.

"You're quite a good dancer once you get going."

"Well, Mr. Black, if you had let me finish speaking earlier, I would have told you that I have had more than one dance lesson in my life. I studied ballet for five years when I was a girl."

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises," he said, pulling her close before giving her one last twirl.

Finally the music slowed and the dance ended. He bowed to her and she returned with a curtsy. Applause broke out all around them and the two of them laughed, looking around the room. Many smiling faces looked out from the portraits as they clapped and whooped. "What do you say, Mr. Black, am I an adequate enough dancer so as not to be a complete embarrassment at the party?"

"I should think so," he smiled.


	16. Chapter 16: Into the Vipers' Pit

**Chapter 16: Into the Vipers' Pit**

The hours seemed to slip away like water through a sieve and before long it was the day of the party and Hermione was clutching her bag as if her life depended on it. She had changed it into a silver satin clutch to match the dress she wore. It felt like a bit much to her with the tailored drapery hanging down like a sash around her waist in a fabric that sparkled in the light, but standing there in the mirror with her hair pinned up in a crown braid she couldn't help but think she looked like a statue she saw once depicting the Greek goddess Athena. The thought made her smile as she imagined herself marching into battle; she would need that courage and confidence today. And a bit of graceful elegance wouldn't hurt either.

She had let Cassiopeia do her makeup and quite liked the effect of the silver powder on her lids and the black cherry lipstick. Cassiopeia had insisted she wear at least a little green for the event and had lent her a heavy green emerald lined in small white diamonds that rested between her collarbones. Yet she couldn't deny the look was striking and she _was_ supposed to leave an impression on people tonight.

Steeling herself, she stopped playing with her earrings as the fire in the floo turned green and Regulus stepped out. He wore formal black dress robes with a finely tailored fit, as well as a silver silk vest and green cravat. His hair was neatly combed and his features were as sharp as ever, and he carried himself with a confident and noble dignity of a true pureblood socialite.

When he saw Hermione he froze. She was a vision.

"You look nice," Hermione said to him, taking a step closer.

His eyes were drawn to her lips and the curve of her smile and it made his stomach do a backflip. She looked radiant, absolutely radiant.

Cassiopeia cleared her throat in the corner and said in an amused voice, "Doesn't Hermione look lovely, Regulus?"

Shaking himself out of his stupor he nodded curtly. "Yes, Hermione, you look lovely." Hermione seemed to relax a little as he smiled at her and she accepted his arm for side-along apparition to the party.

* * *

Floating lanterns and fairies danced in the fading light of the summer evening as they climbed from the apparition point to the top of the hill. Hermione's grip on Regulus's arm was tight as they approached the crowds of people in the tents. Trays of food and glasses of champagne bobbed around the room as guests reconnected, greeting each other with polished smiles. Long green and silver banners hung all around them and a fountain in the middle of the grass spouted out green and silver showers of sparks. The guests were all wearing formal robes and elegant dresses of green and accents of silver in honor of the occasion. Laughter could be heard over the music as the crowds of old classmates reconnected.

To anyone else at the party it would have been a festive, merry sight; but all Hermione could see was a pit of vipers. Her nails dug into Regulus's arm and he placed his hand over hers in a comforting gesture, leaning in to whisper to her.

"It's going to be alright. Trust me."

She nodded, more to reassure herself than him and they joined the party. Regulus was approached almost immediately by a large man Hermione recognized with a start: Albert Runcorn. The very same man that Harry had transformed into when they infiltrated the Ministry of Magic.

He gave a gruff nod in greeting which Regulus returned politely. "Reg. You're lucky: you just missed Slughorn's speech but you've made it in time for the booze."

Regulus smiled conspiratorially and said, "It's almost like I planned it that way."

Runcorn barked a laugh and then looked Hermine up and down. "And you've brought a friend, I see."

"Yes, I have. Albert, this is Hermione Krum. Hermione, this is Albert-"

"-Runcorn." She couldn't help herself. Years of blurting out answers was so ingrained in her.

They both raised their eyebrows in surprise and she felt herself blush.

"Has Reg been telling you about me?" he asked, giving her a suspicious glance.

"I'm sure I must have mentioned you a hundred times, what with how often you saved my neck on the quidditch pitch," Regulus replied quickly.

Runcorn nodded, still wary, but he turned to Regulus and talked with him for a few minutes and she gathered that the older man had played quidditch with Regulus for a couple of years.

"Sorry," Hermione murmured softly as Runcorn turned to talk to someone else.

"Don't worry about it." He introduced her to several other people who she had never heard of and she smiled kindly while Regulus briefly chatted with a few of them.

Just as one conversation began to come to a close a sweet, a smooth voice said, "Is that you, Reggie?" They turned and striding towards them in a gorgeous green silk dress with diamonds glittering at her throat was Narcissa Malfoy. She beamed at him and Hermione was struck by the thought that this was the first time she had ever seen the woman smile. She wondered if being married to Lucius had drained the happiness from her.

"Cousin," Regulus greeted her warmly and kissed her hand. "It is good to see you. You look lovely."

"Thank you, Reggie. Although I'm clearly not the only one. Who is this stunning creature and why haven't you introduced us yet?"

"Let me waste no more of your time, dear cousin. May I introduce Hermione Krum. Hermione, this is my cousin Narcissa Malfoy."

Her heart pounded in her chest, but she curtsied politely and Narcissa followed suit with practiced ease.

"Is Bellatrix here?"

"Of course not. You know she hates these kinds of socials. If there's no one to hex it isn't any fun."

Hermione breathed a deep sigh of relief. She was not sure she could face Bellatrix yet. The cut of her knife was still too fresh in her memory.

"And Lucius?"

"He's about with some of the others. Come and join us. Then you can make proper introductions for your guest."

Something in the way she said 'guest' made Hermione nervous.

They had no choice but to follow her through the crowd to where a circle of gentlemen stood talking amongst themselves. As they approached the circle seemed to widen naturally to absorb them and Narcissa looped her arm through Lucius's. The white-haired blond nodded his head at Regulus, as did the rest, before his eyes traveled to Hermione, assessing her from head to foot. She stood her ground and did not blink or cower. She remembered him, with that mad crazed look in his eye when she had last seen him: a shell of the man who stood before her in his pride and self-assurance.

"Aren't you going to make the introductions, Black?"

Regulus introduced her to the men and then introduced all of them in turn, though he needn't have done: she knew them all. Antonin Dolohov, Corban Yaxley, Evan Rosier, Rabastan Lestrange, and Roderick Avery all bowed their heads at her and it took all her willpower to curtsy back instead of pulling out her wand and taking out half of Voldemort's elite followers at once.

A few ladies, no doubt smelling fresh blood, stepped into the circle as well and were introduced. Hermione caught the names Crabbe, Selwyn, and Wilkes, but did not remember any of these women from her time. "Are you two together?" asked the Selwyn woman with an interested grin as she gestured between the pair of them.

A hot flush ran up Hermione's neck. They hadn't discussed this ahead of time. Were they supposed to pretend to be a couple? A horrible, awful second of silence stretched in the air: much, much too long. Burning in uncomfortable stillness she opened her mouth to speak, but for once she had no ready answer.

Regulus, just as embarrassed, thinking very much the same thing as Hermione felt his ears grow hot. _Nosey Selwyn witch._

There was a horrible moment as the group looked from Hermione to Regulus, waiting for an explanation.

It was Regulus who found his voice first. "Miss Krum is my guest this evening. We are recently acquainted and I thought it proper to introduce her to the rest of British society."

Friends then. Good. Hermione nodded along, her heart beating out a samba against her rib cage.

The others around the circle fired off questions. "Where are you from, Miss Krum?"

"France, but Bulgaria before that. My father was an ambassador and I was raised in England during my childhood."

"What brings you to our part of the world?"

She told the story of her fake parents dying in a giant attack and received many shocked expressions and words of condolence as they listened intently.

Next came the question about how they met and Regulus recounted the tale in all its horrific glory. He told it well, and painted a convincing enough picture that even the Death Eaters were listening just as intensely as the women. Hermione stayed quiet as he told it; surprised that he played it off not as a boastful hero, but a stunned passerby who happened to be able to lend a hand finishing them off.

"I've never seen anyone duel like that in my life. Six on one and I'd still bet my galleons on her." He smiled at her and she smiled back, shaking her head.

"If not for Regulus, I would have been that werewolf's dinner. He was very brave." She smiled at him as more questions came. Their chance encounter made for an interesting story and had the intended effect of making the others interested in her.

Narcissa asked about her schooling and where she grew up.

Dolohov asked what she was doing in the country.

More questions came and she answered them and asked questions of her own.

Evan Rosier asked her for a dance and Hermione felt a surge of panic. There was no way she could say no.

He led her out onto the dance floor and the other couples made room for them as a new song began to play. He bowed and took her hand graciously.

"That's a fascinating tale, Miss Krum. I'm sorry your return to London has not made the best impression." He gripped her waist and they started to dance.

"It's improved remarkably since my arrival. I've met so many wonderful people since. And everyone here has been welcoming towards me."

Rosier smiled with straight white teeth and thin lips. "And what is your opinion of Mr. Black?"

"He is a kind, brave man. I am lucky to have met him."

"And what brings you to London specifically? Work or pleasure?"

"Education and work, actually."

"Education? Are you not of age?"

"I am, but with a private education I never had to take the NEWTs, but now that I'm here I've made arrangements to take them at Hogwarts."

"And what type of career are you interested in?"

Hermione thought for a moment as he spun her. "I'm trying to keep my options open. I would like to work for the ministry if possible, but I'll have to wait for the results before I'll know what my options are."

"Well if you're interested in magical law, I'd be happy to advise you. I warn you though, we only accept the top students into our firm."

"I'll have to give it my best."

There was a pause as they danced.

"And did you come to London with any other purpose in mind?"

She felt her throat close and her mouth go dry. Did he suspect something? "Not particularly. It was my home for many years and it was where my parents met, so I decided to come here. Why do you ask?"

"You are a beautiful young foreign pureblood witch," he commented and she felt her cheeks grow hot. He said it so casually, as if reciting an observation about the party decor. "You are of age. You came to the place where your parents met. It seems to me you might be seeking a match with someone."

"Might I ask why you are interested?"

"Because it so happens that there are several eligible bachelors here tonight. So if you are searching for someone, this would be an excellent place to start. Assuming, of course, that Mr. Black is-"

"He's just a friend," she said quickly.

Rosier smiled thinly and nodded in the direction of the group. "In that case, Mr. Lestrange and Mr. Dolohov are both unattached. But there is also Mr. Dukar over there by the fountain, Mr. Yellenski is the one over by the punch bowl talking with Mr. Albast. Both of them are single, but Mr. Yellenski is only a half-blood. A few on the dance floor are Mr. Herrle, Mr. Greene, and Mr. Peterson. Although, if I'm honest Mr. Peterson is probably not the marrying sort and you would be best to avoid him."

She studied each man he pointed out carefully. "And Mr. Lestrange, what sort is he?"

He raised an eyebrow and smirked at her. "A well-bred one. He has a taste for the finer things in life. Very ambitious. He's risen quite quickly in the ministry behind his father and older brother. I suspect he will rise still further."

"And what of Dolohov?"

"He is a man of simple tastes and few wants for a pureblood nobleman. Not as ambitious, but he's a cunning and talented wizard. I have yet to meet his match when it comes to inventing spells."

"And Mr. Black?"

Rosier raised an eyebrow. "I thought he was just a friend?" he teased.

"He is. But I'd like to hear your opinion of him."

"He'd be a good match as far as nobility is concerned. Younger than the others, but well-positioned to rise to his father's seat on the Wizengamot when he retires. Top of his class, quidditch captain and seeker. A quiet, reserved young man, but dignified and respectable."

"And what about you, Mr. Rosier?"

"Me?"

"Yes. You seem to have assessed the rest well enough. I'd like to hear about you as well."

A smug half-grin split across his face. "Why don't you take a guess, Miss Krum?"

She looked into his pale green eyes appraisingly, trying to read the man. "You, Mr. Rosier are a remarkable man as well. Powerful. Dignified. Proud. But not arrogant. Ruthless in your business dealings, I'd wager. But you are straightforward. If you want something you do whatever it takes to get it. You are not ashamed of your faults as some men might be, because they make you a strong force to be reckoned with. I sense bravery. But I sense a tragic flaw in you."

"Which is?"

"Loyalty."

"Loyalty?"

"Your loyalty, when given to the right people, is treasured and treated with the utmost respect. I sense that you are a smart man who knows himself and his peers. But misplaced loyalty has killed many a good man."

He raised an eyebrow at her, chuckling. "Miss Krum, you are a most intriguing young woman. So very mysterious." The song ended and he walked her back to the rest. "A fine dance partner," he said, nodding his head respectfully to her.

"As are you, Mr. Rosier."

"Might I have the next dance?" The request came from Rabastan Lestrange. He was a tall, dark haired man with bright blue eyes and a slightly squashed upturned nose. His thick dark brows looked like furry caterpillars. Another girl might have called him good looking, but the arrogance surrounding him and the sense of entitlement with which he carried himself was tangible from a good distance.

Hermione remembered him. He was one of the ones who had tortured Neville's parents into insanity with Bellatrix and his brother. He had looked for Voldemort with them and Barty Crouch Jr. Every part of her heart wanted to hex him, but she knew she needed to get close to the Lestranges. She had a feeling that as some of Voldemort's most loyal and wealthy followers they too would likely be given privileges the others would not: like the privilege of protecting a personal possession that belonged to their Dark Lord. This was something she needed to do.

She smiled graciously and accepted his offer. He held her hand high as he led her to the dance floor, and Hermione got the sense that he really liked the attention he got as others turned in their direction to stare. He was a little taller than Rosier and he stepped closer to her as they danced than Hermione felt was respectful.

"I must say, I am rather jealous that Regulus found you first. You are quite a beauty, Miss Krum."

She pretended the redness in her cheeks was a blush. "I don't know why you would be jealous. He's only my friend. And you are a very handsome man yourself, if I may be so bold." It was clear to her that Rabastan Lestrange's ego was her ticket for more information.

This seemed to entice him. "You're not afraid to speak your mind, it seems, Miss Krum."

"Neither are you, Mr. Lestrange."

"Please, call me Rab. There are too many men in my family who already go by our surname. It makes it easier to keep us straight."

"Rab, then," she said sweetly, pasting on a smile.

"I was so sorry to hear about the tragic incident with your family," he said, not sounding sorry at all.

"Thank you, Rab," she said, though his name felt like grit on her tongue. "It is a comfort to know that there are so many caring people here."

"Indeed. It's a good thing that Regulus brought you here tonight. There are many decent wizards at this party. Myself included. You are in good company."

"Yes, you all seem to be such accomplished men. Mr. Rosier told me you have a successful career at the ministry."

"Did he now? Well he should know; he's quite a successful business man himself. He always gets what he wants in the end." He held her in a low dip before pulling her back to him so that she was much closer than before.

"And what about you, Rab? I imagine a man as accomplished as yourself has his own methods for getting what he desires."

He pulled her close against his chest. "You are right about that."

He took a step back and Hermione forgot to move her feet in time and tripped over herself. Rabastan caught her, steadying her with a hand pressed against her lower back, pulling her tightly against his torso. "Are you alright?" he asked her, as she quickly recovered and fell into line with the steps once more.

"Yes, thanks to you. Did you play quidditch in school? You have very fast reflexes." This led to a very long story about a quidditch match where he had smashed no less than twelve bludgers into the opposing team's players. Hermione did her best to feign interest and after years of listening to Harry and Ron and Ginny and the rest of the entire wizarding world talk about quidditch, she had become quite good at pretending to look interested and enthralled by play by play accounts of matches.

He was still telling her the details of his tenth bludger attack when they arrived back in the circle. This led to a longer conversation about quidditch and the last World Cup match between Brazil and Spain that made Hermione's eyes glaze over.

Narcissa slipped her arm out of her husband's to drag Hermione over to the punch bowl, and a part of her felt relieved that she didn't have to feign interest anymore. "Sorry to pull you away, but they can go on like that for hours. They probably didn't even notice we left." Narcissa smiled conspiratorially and handed her a glass of frothing green punch.

"Probably not," Hermione agreed with a glance back at the group. Regulus seemed to abstain from the conversation, preferring to listen intently as the other more boisterous men argued about a point. This surprised Hermione as she remembered he had been seeker for his own team in his time and must follow the World Cup matches too.

"I see you dressed for the occasion."

Hermione turned her attention back to Narcissa, who had followed her gaze and was smiling at her with a knowing look.

"What?"

"Your dress. It's silver, to match the Slytherin green of your necklace. You used the accent color to highlight the stone: very interesting choice."

Hermione touched the stone at her neck. It didn't feel as heavy as it had before she left.

"Or is the silver meant to accompany the green," she smirked, eyeing Regulus.

Hermione looked down at her dress for a moment to hide the color in her cheeks. "I thought I should try and match the colors in honor of the event. I chose the silver because green isn't my best color. You look lovely in your green dress though," she added, gesturing at Narcissa's fashionable dress.

"You are too kind, Miss Krum. Wherever did you purchase yours?"

"Oh, it was a gift, actually. I've been staying with Regulus's aunt and she bought it for me to wear when he invited me to go. I'm afraid I haven't had the money for a new dress or lodging after those horrible men attacked me and stole my suitcase."

Narcissa looked shocked. "Did your family not leave you any money after they died?" Hermione explained the fake story as Narcissa listened intently. "So you see, I haven't any money until I get a job or get married. I've promised to pay Cassiopeia back with interest for all that she's done for me though-"

"She won't accept that. She has always been quite charitable by nature."

"I owe the Black family so much already," Hermione said wistfully.

"Oh, trust me, I think your company will do more than any gold could ever do, especially if it gets Reggie out of that miserable house."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at her, surprised.

Naricssa rolled her eyes. "Oh don't let's pretend. I am a Black too. I know Walburga well enough. It's no secret that women in the Black family are ill suited for motherhood."

Hermione noted the bitter resentment in her voice. "I don't know about that. Perhaps the Malfoy women are better mothers."

Narcissa smiled sadly. "I don't know about that. Lucius's mother died shortly after he was born. And I haven't had much luck keeping pregnancies." Hermione's eyes widened at her frankness. But Narcissa seemed resigned to the fact, numbed to it even, which alarmed her more.

Hermione turned to her. "Can you keep a secret, Narcissa?"

She nodded warily and leaned in as Hermione spoke softly so that only she could hear. "I have a bit of a gift with foresight. And I sense that by this time next year, there will be a new baby in your future." She looked wary still, but Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "Just a feeling."

"You seem a sweet girl, Hermione. But I think after all these years I'm not going to get my hopes up."

The two of them returned to the circle in silence and as the crowd parted Hermione saw Horance Slughorn standing there next to Lucius.

"And this must be the young lady I've heard so much about," Horace said, splaying his hands out and bowing as much as his large belly would allow. "Miss Krum, I presume?"

Hermione nodded her head and smiled.

"Where ever have you been keeping her, Mr. Black? Such a treasure should not sit locked away."

"I'm afraid I've locked myself away while I've been studying to take my NEWTs. I haven't been able to get out much."

"Yes, yes, I have heard. A shame you did not attend Hogwarts as a student. There is no finer institution in the wizarding world. Hogwarts turns out some of the brightest and most gifted witches and wizards; most of whom are in my own house." He puffed up his chest and beamed around at the other wizards.

"Yes, it seems your influence has the effect of producing remarkable men and women," Hermione praised, smiling at the group.

"Oh, I merely nudged them in the right direction. Their accomplishments are all their own," he boasted, clearly flattered.

Slughorn stayed to chat a little bit more, asking about her education and how she thought she might do on the NEWTs. When she told him she was taking seven he balked. "Seven, my dear girl! You are ambitious as well. I suspect you would have done well in Slytherin, had you attended Hogwarts." It took a good deal of self-control to thank him and nod politely as he continued to talk about the many accomplishments of his past students.

When he had wished her a good night and gone to talk to someone else, she turned around and came face to face with Antonin Dolohov. "Now that old Sluggy is gone, would you care for a dance?" He smiled as she opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water for a few seconds. "Tongue-tied are we? Don't worry, I have that effect on most witches." He placed a hand on her lower back and steered her to the dance floor.

Her heart raced in her chest. She felt the tight pull of the scar across her sternum as she tried to keep her breathing calm. But she was terrified and her body couldn't help but react at the touch of the man who had hurt her. She stared into his cold, dark brown eyes in fear. Tearing her eyes away, she looked at his hand holding her own. She was shaking.

"Are you alright, Miss Krum? You're shaking like a leaf."

"Just a bit cold," she choked out.

"Then perhaps I should hold you closer," he said, pulling her flush against him. He smiled down at her with smug satisfaction. "Your heart is beating rather fast, my dear. Am I holding you too close?" he leaned in, whispering against her neck. She felt her heart seize in panic as the Death Eater trailed his fingers down her lower back, pressing her against him, where she felt his hardness press into her stomach. "It's alright. You excite me too."

She wanted to run. She wanted to scream and run away. She wanted the dance floor to open up and swallow her whole. His eyes bore down into her own, hungry, predatory.

"May I cut in?" a cold, measured voice said from behind Dolohov. Regulus stood there, a resolutely stoic figure on the dance floor of twirling couples.

"You can have the next one, Black."

Regulus did not move. "Am I to be the last man in the room to dance with my guest?"

"Of course not. But you can be the next, after we've finished." Dolohov's eyes gleamed at her.

"I think I'll have this one and the next, Mr. Dolohov, as the lady promised me this dance."

"I did. I did promise him," she said softly, finding her voice at last.

There came a deep disgruntled sound from Dolohov's chest that was more growl than sigh. "Fine. There will be other dances." Then he bent down to her ear and whispered once more. "Until next time, Miss Krum." And then he bowed, kissing her hand before scowling at Regulus and departing the dance floor.

Regulus took her in his arms and continued the dance. "Are you alright?" he asked gently.

She couldn't look at him. She was fighting back tears and she couldn't cry here. She couldn't give herself away. "Hermione, look at me." She couldn't. A sniff escaped her and he understood she was upset. "Did he do something?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to remember. "Later," was all she could manage before she sniffed again and took several steadying breaths.

His arms held her steady, supporting her until she calmed down. "If you want me to kill him, just say the word." He said it with a hint of seriousness and she laughed, looking up at him. He was smiling at her, one of his soft, slight, sweet smiles that he gave out so infrequently. She couldn't help but smile back at him.

"I'm serious: it's been ages since I've had a proper duel. I think I can take him."

Another laugh escaped her and she shook her head imperceptibly. "It's alright. Really. I'll be okay."

"Let's finish the next dance and call it a night. I'm sure that your feet must be killing you after all this dancing."

She chuckled and nodded her head: her feet were killing her, but she knew that it was just an excuse.

He could tell that she was upset despite the smile on her face, or at least he guessed that she needed to leave the place and put some distance between herself and these men.

The next dance was a good long slow one and finally as it drew to a close, Hermione relaxed her tight-fingered grip on Regulus's shoulder and hand; she hadn't realized how hard she had been holding onto him until just then. He must have been in pain, but he had hidden it from her.

She clutched his arm as he escorted her back, limping a little as she did. Narcissa asked if she was okay and Hermione smiled weakly, telling her she hadn't realized there would be so much dancing and that her feet were aching in her new shoes. Narcissa nodded understandingly, but her worried gaze lingered a little as Regulus escorted her off the dance floor and out into the slight chill of the night air.

Once they reached the apparition point she paused and said, "Is it alright if we don't go back to Cassiopeia's right now? I...I'm just not ready yet."

He nodded and asked her if she wanted to go somewhere else and she nodded eagerly.

"Please," she added.

* * *

In a heartbeat she felt tall grass around her legs, reaching up to tickle her palms. Even in the darkness she could tell they were in a vast, hilly meadow.

With a wave of his wand Regulus conjured several floating lights that bobbed sleepily around them. Taking her hand he led her carefully through the dark up to the top of the hill with an outcropping of rock at the crest. Together they leaned back on the smooth surface of the weathered stone and disappeared in the sea of grass.

Hermione watched the pulsing lights bob and weave, dancing around each other over their heads.

Regulus didn't say anything the whole time, and Hermione was grateful he didn't press her. The sound of the wind in the grass was soothing. She didn't care if she got her dress dirty: it was nice and tranquil here. There was only the sweet earthy scent of the grass and flowers blooming in the field. Dark clouds rolled overhead, blocking out parts of the starry sky. It made her feel peaceful, surrounded and hidden by the smooth waves and ripples of a breeze. Out here in the open she could breathe again.

"Can we see your star from here?" she asked, turning to look at Regulus.

He peered up at the sky, then shook his head, ruffling his smoothed hair against the stone. "No. It's too cloudy tonight. But on a clearer night I'll show it to you."

"Do you know all the constellations?" She knew the Black family members traditionally named their children after stars or constellations and after seeing the telescope and other items in the gallery at Grimmauld Place she was curious.

"I think I did at one point. But not anymore. Sirius and I had to learn. Most of the ones connected to stories I liked I can still point out."

She nodded, watching him as he searched for stars amongst the clouds.

"Thank you," she breathed, rolling onto her back once more.

"For what?" He seemed to have forgotten that she was there, lost as he was in his own thoughts.

"For...for bringing me here." It wasn't quite the whole truth, but she had a feeling he understood.

He searched her face for a moment, then looked back at the sky. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Hermione plucked a long piece of grass and picked at the seeds, popping them off one by one. She always fidgeted with things when she didn't quite know how to say something. "I know that we don't know each other very well. Not really. But I suppose if we're going to be working together on this mission, we should trust each other."

"I trust you." He said it to her, his silver eyes clear and bright like starlight. "You don't have to tell me anything. You don't have to do any of this if you don't want to."

"No, I can do this. I want to help. I…" But she couldn't say more.

He turned to her then, his smooth hair falling out of place in the wind. "I'll do whatever I can to protect you."

She swallowed and nodded, winding the long blade of grass around her fingers. "You can count on me too."

In the dark they lay there, listening to the wind rustling the grass, only beginning to realize the full extent of the journey they were bound to lead and what that would mean. But for a while they lost themselves in the rippling sea of meadow flowers, tall grass, and fragrant scents of the dark summer's night.

Eventually, Regulus said to her, "I have to take you back before Aunt Cass starts to worry."

As she walked up the stairs of the townhouse to her room, holding her shoes in her hand, she wondered where it was Regulus had taken her. It had never even occurred to her to ask. But it had been the perfect place; exactly what she had needed. She wondered if he understood the need to get away just as well as she did.


	17. Chapter 17: A New Friend

**Chapter 17: A New Friend**

Narcissa sent her an invitation for tea with her and her friends that next morning. Hermione had hesitated, but sent back the owl with a message confirming her attendance.

Cassiopeia watched her over the sugar bowl as she swirled her spoon in her tea. "How was the party?"

"It was really nice," she lied. "Regulus introduced me to a number of new people. It was really interesting to meet them all. But the dancing has left me quite footsore this morning."

"And who did you dance with?" Cassiopeia asked, unfolding the newspaper and pretending to scan it, but Hermione could tell she was quite interested to hear more about it.

"A few people. Mr. Rosier, Mr. Lestrange, Mr. Dolohov, and Regulus."

"And were they good dance partners?"

"Some were."

Something in her voice or the way she averted her eyes drew Cassiopeia's attention. She stopped pretending to read the news. "Were some of them less than gentlemanly?"

"One certainly was."

"Lestrange?"

"Dolohov."

"What happened?"

"It doesn't matter. Regulus stepped in and saved me from him."

"Yes, he's making quite a habit of it, isn't he?"

Hermione sighed, ignoring the implication behind Cassiopeia's expression. "I thought it would make a bad impression on the rest of his friends if I hexed the man's parts off."

"If it happens again, hex away."

Hermione stared into her tea cup and promised she would.

* * *

The next morning Hermione awoke drenched in sweat, every fiber in her being telling her not to go to tea with Naricissa Malfoy at Malfoy Manor. Cold dread spread through her. Every nerve in her body was screaming at her to burn the invitation, but she knew she had to take this opportunity. The Malfoy family had the diary. She had to do this for the sake of the mission.

Stepping out of the emerald green flames into a large living room with shiny polished wooden floors, Hermione stood a little straighter and stepped onto the hearth rug.

Narcissa was there waiting for her, smiling widely as she welcomed Hermione to her home. Narcissa took her arm, leading her towards the tea room where they would be joining Narcissa and her friends for tea. Before they reached the room, however, Narcissa pulled her aside for a moment, studying her face carefully.

"Are you alright?"

Hermione felt a bead of sweat fall down the back of her neck. "Yes, why?" she asked, trying to keep her nerves from showing.

"You seemed rather pale when you left Slughorn's party. Did something happen?" Her sharp grey eyes studied Hermione's face.

"It was just my feet. After all that dancing-"

"Was it Dolohov?" Narcissa asked, brushing aside the cover up lie.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise at the knowing look she gave her.

"It's okay. You can tell me. I saw him when Reggie did. And Dolohov didn't bother trying to hide himself when he rejoined the group. Dirty sodding pervert." Wrinkling her nose in disgust, Narcissa folded her arms angrily. "Steer clear of him if you can. I've never liked him."

"But isn't he friends with Lucius?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself.

"They work together, yes. I have to encounter and tolerate many of my husband's associates. That is my duty as his wife. It doesn't mean I have to like them."

Hermione studied her carefully. Narcissa had been the strong one in her family after Lucius's fall from grace, holding together her family even when Voldemort had broken Lucius and threatened Draco. Looking into her cold grey eyes, eyes so similar to Draco's, Hermione marveled at the hidden strength of hers to play the game without revealing her true feelings. Privately, she wondered if she had misjudged Narcissa Malfoy from her future. She had always thought her strength was born in need during the crisis, but clearly Narcissa was well attuned to navigating situations that took great care and delicacy. She reminded herself that this woman was capable of hiding her thoughts and opinions from the best legilimens in the world, for years under extreme duress.

"Now come, have tea with some of us ladies. We're much better company." She led her into the baby blue sitting room with ivory sofas and chairs. Tea and sandwiches were arranged artfully on delicate blue china. Both women sitting on the sofa were chatting pleasantly with one another when they sat down. And both women were very pregnant.

"Miss Hermione Krum, might I introduce you to Rosalynn Bulstrode and Allisandra Parkinson. Ladies, this is Miss Krum, who I've mentioned will be joining us today. She is new to London and her journey here has been a remarkable one."

Hermione accepted the cup of tea Narcissa poured for her as the two women surveyed her. At Narcissa's prompting she told them the story in full detail.

They reacted the same way as the others: shocked and horrorstruck.

"And did they not leave you with anything to live on?" Mrs. Bulstrode asked, appalled.

Hermione explained about her assets being tied up and held in a dowry and they shook their heads sadly.

"Not many families realize they need to set aside money in case something happens to them," Mrs. Bulstrode said, flicking back her short bob of blonde hair matter-of-factly.

"Oh, Rose! No one think they're going to pass on before they're old and grey. They don't plan for things like giant attacks!"

"Well I'm going to have a talk with my husband this evening to make sure our children are well provided for in case anything happens to us."

"That is a good idea. I'll speak with Henry about it too, I think," Mrs. Parkinson said, wrinkling her pug-like nose as she pursed her lips.

"When are you due to deliver?" Hermione asked, looking from one to the other.

"September," Mrs. Parkinson said, putting a hand on her belly.

"Near the end of October for me," said Mrs. Bulstrode.

There was a beat as they sipped their tea and Mrs. Parkinson asked, "Would you like to know the sex?"

"Oh, I know already. Both girls, yes?" She gestured and sipped tea.

The other two women blanched.

"However did you know?" Mrs. Bulstrode asked, setting her cup down in surprise.

"Oh, Narcissa didn't tell you?" She took a sip of tea, smiling, then leaned in conspiratorially. "I'm a little bit psychic. I can see bits of the future."

Both of them raised their eyebrows skeptically. "They why did you need to ask our due dates?"

"The future is vague on specific details like days."

"Then what does the future tell you?" Mrs. Bulstrode asked dubiously.

"Would you like to know their names?" It was a cheeky thing to do, but she needed Narcissa to believe her, otherwise Draco might not exist in this timeline. She closed her eyes and imitated Trelawney, holding her arms out dramatically. She gave a laugh and smiled as if discovering something very amusing.

"It seems Narcissa is not the only one in this room named after a flower. A delicate, but hearty one too. A violet? No. A pansy. Yes, that's it. Pansy Parkinson. A black-haired beauty of a baby," she said kindly, even though she personally found Pansy pug-nosed and rude.

Mrs. Parkinson frowned and looked at Narcissa. "Did you say anything to her?"

She raised her hands and shook her head. "It wasn't me. I didn't say anything."

Turning back to Hermione, she asked, "What else do you know?"

"She is a proud girl. And very willful. You'll have your hands full with her. But she is also fiercely loyal and protective of those she loves. And none more so than her little sister. Oh yes, a few years younger, but also named for a flower. Definitely not Petunia, but something sweet...Posie! Yes, that's it! I see her willing to do anything for her little sister." She opened her eyes to read the expressions on the faces around her. "I also sense that your husband is an older gentleman, Mrs. Parkinson. Am I correct?"

Mrs. Parkinson raised an eyebrow at Narcissa, who once again held up her empty hands innocently. She looked like she wanted to say something when Mrs. Bulstrode leaned forward excitedly.

"Me next! Tell me my little girl's name!"

Hermione smiled and closed her eyes. It was harder for her to think about positive traits for Millicent Bulstrode. She still remembered her trying to choke her in Umbridge's office. Or at the dueling club. "Millicent. A lovely tall, blonde girl. Very strong. A real warrior. Not a bad dueler either. And she has a special fondness for cats."

Hermoine opened her eyes to the sound of excited clapping. Mrs. Bulstrode was giddy. "Oh, I just can't wait for her to be here. My little Milly!"

Mrs. Parkinson nodded her head as well. "Indeed, Miss Krum. I've never cared for divination much, but you just might make a believer of me yet."

"Oh, do a reading for Narcissa too!"

Narcissa opened her mouth to protest, but eager expressions from her other two friends made her relent. "Fine. Let's hear it," she said dryly.

Hermione closed her eyes once again, affecting a more serious air about her. "I see a baby in your future. A handsome baby boy with pale blond hair like his father. Oh, you should see him Narcissa. He's gorgeous. And smart. And artistic. Very talented. He draws particularly well. And he loves flying. His father will spoil him with racing brooms. And his mother will love him dearly. No woman will ever be good enough for him." Hermione paused at the sound of giggles. "People who don't know him will think he takes after his father, but those who do take the time to know him know that he takes after his mother. He gets his strength and courage from her."

She opened her eyes and looked at Narcissa as Mrs. Bulstrode said, "And hopefully his wits too!"

Narcissa's polite smile did not reach her eyes. "It sounds like a marvelous fairytale ladies, but I'd rather not get my hopes up if that's alright."

All three of them deflated. Hermione got up and sat by Narcissa. "Narcissa, just because something hasn't happened yet doesn't mean it can't of won't. I've seen your son and I know it's possible for you."

"Hermione, you're very sweet, but Lucius and I have been to see the very best healers and they've told us again and again that it isn't likely to happen for us."

"There's still a chance."

"Exactly, Narcissa. You can always give it a try. The trying is the best part," Mrs. Bulstrode smirked.

The other two women laughed and Hermione flushed scarlet.

Narcissa laughed even harder when she saw Hermione's red face. "Oh, Rose. What will Hermione think of us if you go talking like that?"

"She might think we're ladies who have a bit of fun, and not sexless old spinsters."

"I doubt she'd think anything of the sort given the evidence to the contrary," Narcissa gestured to their round bellies and sipped her tea with a smile.

They all burst out laughing. When things settled down again Mrs. Bulstrode turned to Hermione. "Now dear, 'Cissa was just telling us that you danced with several gentlemen at the party the other night. Did anyone catch your eye?"

Hermione swallowed and choked a bit on her tea. Sitting back in her seat, she smoothed her dress. It had been a long time since she engaged in gossip like this with anyone, as the last time she could remember was with Ginny a lifetime ago. "I found most of them to be agreeable men. Mr. Rosier was polite and a good dancer. He seems a straightforward man. Mr. Lestrange is very tall and handsome, and enjoys talking about quidditch. Perhaps a bit too much for my taste."

"But an athletic physique is always a plus," remarked Mrs. Bulstrode.

The other ladies laughed and Hermione stared into her lap as her cheeks turned pink again. She wasn't used to this sort of talk. Harry and Ron didn't talk this way around her.

"What about Regulus?"

Hermione blinked in surprise and looked up. "What?"

"Regulus. The young gentleman who brought you to the party? The one who showed up like a white knight to rescue you? The one whose aunt you're staying with? The other tall, handsome quidditch player you danced with."

She bit her lip and looked down at her lap. "I don't think that he's interested in me like that. We're just friends."

A collective groan came from all around her.

"The young ones are so oblivious," Mrs. Parkinson remarked to the others.

"He likes you, Hermione. He just isn't very open about his feelings."

"It's a common trait among British men," Mrs. Bulstrode informed her.

"Really, it isn't like that at all. He's just my friend. Trust me, he isn't interested in me."

Another collective sigh. "Time will tell," Narcissa said, sipping her tea and changing the topic of conversation topic to the wild hairstyle Celestina Warbeck had on the cover of the last issue of _Witch Weekly_.

When it was time to leave Hermione waited with Narcissa as the two pregnant women took the floo back to their homes. "Narcissa, wait. I wanted to give these to you."

She pulled out three volumes from her bag and handed them to her. "Two are about fertility from muggle medical studies. They've actually made great strides in the field with science and muggle medicines. But the other has instructions for a fertility spell the druids used in marriage ceremonies. Just take a glance at them."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow at her, but accepted the three volumes, looking at the covers with distaste. "Alright, but if all it says in here is get drunk on elf-made wine and dance under the full moon naked I think I'll take my chances without." It was more than Hermione could hope for, and she smiled and waved as she stepped into the floo as well and vanished in the emerald flames.

Hermione didn't hear from Narcissa for two weeks. She was terrified that she had overstepped and hurt her in her attempts to convince her to try getting pregnant again. It was selfish and she felt so terrible about how insensitive she had been.

There was a fear in her heart that if she saved Regulus, maybe it meant other factors could affect the future too and her friends might not be born at all. There was no precedent of this to her knowledge and she had no idea what unintended ripple effects might alter the lives of those around her.

* * *

After two weeks Narcissa sent her an owl inviting her to tea. Alone. Her note added that Mrs. Bulstrode and Mrs. Parkinson were assigned to bed rest until their delivery dates.

When she arrived for tea she headed out into the back garden where a small table and some chairs were set up by some rose bushes. Narcissa was sitting under a large umbrella, shielding her eyes as she looked up at Hermione's approach. She waved and Hermione waved back, relieved that she didn't seem to be angry with her.

"How are you, Hermione?" she asked when she sat down.

"I'm well. Although with all this cramming for my NEWTs, I'm quite exhausted. And how are you doing?"

The blonde woman shrugged and sighed. "I've been looking over the texts you gave me. It's all very dense and makes my head ache every time I try to think about it all. But, against my better judgement, I've decided to try again."

"Really?" Hermione clapped her hands in excitement. "Oh, I'm so excited for you!"

"Yes, yes, I'll sleep with my husband. Settle down, and keep quiet." Narcissa glanced around and put up a silencing charm even though the two of them were alone. "I even went and spoke with a muggle fertility specialist. They have me taking medicine and shots and it's the absolute worst, so it had better work. I got the strangest looks when I exchanged galleons for muggle money at Gringotts and I don't want people talking about it. So I'm telling you, but this has to stay between us. I don't want my friends to find out and make a big deal of it. I don't want to get my hopes up in case this doesn't work. The last thing I need is another pity party." She drew back and took a long sip of her drink. "Now, I also read about the druid fertility ritual and it sounds easy enough so I thought we might give that a go too."

"Do you want me to gather the items for you?"

Narcissa pulled up a paper bag at her feet. "I already have them. But I need another witch to help with the spell. Can you do it?"

Hermione nodded her head. "Of course. Shall we do it now?"

Narcissa looked around to make sure they were alone and nodded. "Follow me. There's a spot in the orchard that will work well."

She followed Narissa through the shrubs and rose bushes and out across the green grass field to a spot out of sight from the manor, tucked away near a tall white oak with mistletoe hanging in its branches.

They arranged the items based on the design in the book. Six green crystals and seven doxy eggs were placed in a circle around Narcissa, who placed baby's breath flowers within the circle as well. Narcissa painted white symbols on four smooth river stones as Hermione levitated down a branch of mistletoe from the oak tree.

After everything else was ready Hermione turned to Narcissa. "I'm going to need to paint your stomach with the symbol."

Narcissa pulled her shirt up, revealing her pale, flat stomach. She wrinkled her nose as the cold brush touched her skin. "And you're sure this isn't just a bunch of nonsense some drunken witches came up with centuries ago as an excuse to run around naked?"

"Not really. But I tried out another spell from here and it worked well enough. Besides, if this doesn't work we'll just use it as an excuse to get drunk and run around naked."

Narcissa smirked. "Yeah, why not?"

When Hermione had finished Narcissa lay down in the center of the circle and Hermione began to speak the words written on the pages. The hovering ball of mistletoe caught fire and the doxy eggs rose into the air, spinning and spinning in a circle. A sparkling green pulsed from the crystals and the acorns lying in the grass around them began to crack as roots and leaves poked out. Then the bundle of mistletoe flared up and floated down to the ground as cinders. A few specks of dust fell on Narcissa's stomach and seemed to soak into her skin. The doxy eggs cracked and broke, intermingling with the greenish light of the crystals and the white paint of the stones, before the colorful mixture adhered to the strange mark on Narcissa's stomach and then just like that, it was over. The symbol vanished like the ashes.

Hermione helped Narcissa to her feet and there in the center where her back had been was a single sprouted acorn.

"If nothing else we know it's a good spell for planting season."

"I think it worked. It's supposed to create a living embodiment of fertility which you have to nurture and keep healthy. So water and read up on oak seedling care, I guess."

Narcissa let out a laugh and Hermione was astonished at the sound. "I'm sorry, it just feels like being a little kid and pretending to make up magic spells with flowers and twigs and things with my sister."

"Andromeda?" She couldn't imagine Bellatrix was the type to do such a thing.

Narcissa looked at her sharply, but then nodded and sighed. "I know I'm not supposed to, but I miss her. I do. I want to see her and hold her little girl. There's no life in this family anymore."

They were silent for a minute and then Narcissa waved her wand and a stream of water fell from the tip like a watering can. It soaked into the ground slowly, but the small oak seedling seemed to perk up, reaching for the sunshine.

Hermione smiled warmly at Narcissa. "Maybe soon there will be."


	18. Chapter 18: A Study in Silver

**Chapter 18: A Study in Silver**

The weeks seemed to tick by faster and faster as her NEWTs approached. Hermione had thrown herself into her studies and was rarely seen without her nose in a book. When asked a question she would respond mostly with vague nods or shakes of the head, if at all.

Regulus would often accompany her when he could spare the time, although there were days when she was so engrossed in a book he hardly got two words out of her.

She was reading through an extensive volume on potion ingredients when the book flipped shut. A squeak of surprise escaped her lips and she jumped a little. Her eyes darted angrily to Regulus who was sitting across the room in an armchair, his wand pointed at the book in front of her. They were once again in the library of 12 Grimmauld Place, surrounded by stacks of books.

"I was reading that!" she snapped irritably. "Now I've lost my place!"

She pushed the cover open again and flipped through the pages.

The book zoomed off the table into Regulus's outstretched hands. "You've read it already. Twice. There's only so much you can learn from books and you've read everything at least twice. You need to practice the practical parts too."

He set the book aside and motioned for her to follow him as he headed upstairs. A disgruntled Hermione followed him, relenting that he did have a point.

They stepped into the gallery once again and excited whispers came from all around her.

"Here for another dance, Regulus? We did so enjoy the last one."

"Yes, give us another dance! Or at least some music."

"Yes, music would be much better than listening to your snoring all day long, Arcturus."

Hermione pretended not to hear them as she examined the objects in the room while Regulus shrugged off his coat and rolled up his sleeves before weaving a web of protection spells around the room.

"Is there really going to be no dancing today?" one of the female portraits asked Regulus as he came around to her portrait.

"Not today, I'm afraid. Miss Krum needs to practice her spellwork."

"Well then don't dilly dally. I don't want spells flying at me! Get those charms up."

Regulus continued weaving the spells and when he finally finished he flicked his wand over at the victrola in the corner and put on an orchestral piece.

"This isn't another dance lesson, is it?" Hermione mused, taking her place across from him in the middle of the room. Her eyes flicked to his arms where the dark mark was plainly visible.

He loosened his tie a touch. "What subject would you like to start with first?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts."

He raised an eyebrow, surprised and she shrugged.

"It was always the one I struggled with the most. I only got an Exceeds Expectations on my OWLs."

He smiled at her and shook his head as if laughing at some private joke. "Always the perfectionist, I see. Well, let's have at it. I think a proper duel is in order to see where you're at."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Good, I don't want to hurt you either. But this is the best way to see where your skills are at." He took a few steps back and she did the same, frowning a bit.

A few of the portraits seemed outraged, scolding Regulus. "Now, Regulus, you can't attack a lady, it's very ungentlemanly!"

"Trust me, she'll be just fine," Phineas Nigellus said, waving out at them and leaning forward in his frame to watch, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"Bonus points if you hit the portraits," Regulus said and she grinned.

They bowed to each other and then the dueling began. Regulus was lightning fast with a blasting hex that sent her leaping aside with a shield charm to protect herself from most of the damage.

He sent a stunner which she deflected again with a shield charm. "Not every spell can be blocked with a shield charm," he warned, advancing with his wand.

She deflected a hex and sent one of her own in the same moment, forcing him to side step. He was still gaining ground, however, forcing her back until she felt the shield charm in front of the walls with her back foot. Another stunner missed her head by inches.

"You can't hesitate. Not for a second."

Her wand arm reacted automatically, sending a full body-bind curse at him.

He deflected it almost lazily, but she got off a second hex almost instantly. This one he ducked to avoid and Hermione shot another body-bind that made him jump aside.

He shot off a curse as he did so, and Hermione threw herself behind a display case. He threw a blasting hex near her, but she threw up a shield charm to protect herself from the worst of it.

She could hear his footsteps coming closer. Pointing her wand at the floor she cast a freezing charm, turning it to ice.

Regulus slipped, but recovered quickly just as Hermione stepped out from behind the display case and sent a leg-locking jinx at him. It hit and he had to throw out one of his hands to break his fall, but he twisted and shot a stunner that hit her in the shoulder. In the same motion he undid the leglock curse and the freezing charm on the floor.

He removed the stunning spell from Hermione and helped her up. "Not bad," he said with a slight grimace from where he could feel a bruise on his side where he had landed on the icy floor.

Hermione brushed a stray curl out of her face.

"You almost had me there."

"I think you were going easy on me," she said stiffly, brushing off her dress.

"Maybe a little," he smirked.

She mock glared at him, but couldn't hide the smile splitting across her cheeks. "Again?"

"Just a moment," he said, tapping his wand to his side where the bruise was to heal it. "Good nonverbal spellwork that last round. This time, try and move around more. A moving target is harder to hit. And don't let your opponent cover so much ground."

"I won't," she replied, a fierce look in her eye as she smiled at him and bowed.

This time she advanced on him, quickly.

He was better than she was at staying on his feet and using the space to his advantage. It reminded her once again of their dance as they moved around the room, countering every step forward and back.

The portraits clapped and threw out tips just like they had during the dancing lesson.

"Stay on your feet!"

"Nice wandwork!"

"Aim your stunners at where he's going to be, not where he is."

Between the other voices and the music it was all very distracting. Hermione quickly learned that the freezing spell was a good way to stagger Regulus and she used it often, getting better at surprising him.

But Regulus was a much better dueler than she was. Even staggered he was still ready with a quick spell to counter or throw her off too. He won every duel, but Hermione was gaining in confidence too. Regulus always helped her up after he knocked her down and most of the time sent a cushioning charm to catch her before she hit the floor.

She always seemed to have greater difficulty in close range when he got near her. He disarmed her not six feet from her and crossed the space to point his wand at her, when her body reacted defensively and she grabbed his wrist and stepped forward, landing a clean punch to his nose.

Regulus staggered back clutching his face as blood dripped from it onto his white shirt. Gasps and a few cheers went out around the room.

Covering her mouth in horror at what she had done, she ran to Regulus, scooping up her wand. "Regulus, I'm so, so sorry! I didn't mean-I just reacted. I'm so sorry. Let me see."

Wincing he removed his hands and let her look at his bloody nose."

"I'm so sorry," she apologized again, pointing her wand at him and fixing his nose. The bleeding stopped and she siphoned the blood off his shirt with her wand, still apologizing profusely. "I don't know what got into me, I'm so sorry Regulus."

To her astonishment he grinned at her.

"No, that was good. You kept fighting even without a wand. It was smart."

"It was a reaction, I swear, I didn't mean to hit you."

"Hermione, it's okay. It shows you have good instincts." He touched his nose gingerly. "It's not crooked is it?"

"Of course not. Don't worry, you're still perfectly handsome," she said dryly, cleaning off his upper lip and chin.

"Good," he chuckled.

Noticing that she was using her left hand he reached for her right and she winced as he gingerly inspected it. "Hermione, I think you may have broken your hand when you punched me." With a flick of his wand she felt the throbbing pain lessen. Another pass over her hand with his wand and the bruising quickly faded too. Inspecting it once more he bent his head and kissed it without thinking. "There. Good as new."

Hermione pulled her hand back, hoping her cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

Regulus didn't seem to notice as he touched his nose again. "If it's alright with you, I think that's enough dueling for today. Are there any other spells you'd like to practice before I put the room back in order?"

She bit her lip and nodded, looking at her shoes. "There's one spell I've always struggled with a bit."

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to go on. "A patronus. A corporeal one. I used to be able to make one easily in practice, but making one in the presence of a dementor was always a struggle for me."

"I doubt there will be an actual dementor at the exam."

"I know that, but," she looked around at the portraits on the walls nervously and said, "Since I've been here, the memories I used to use aren't working any more."

And he understood what she meant without another word. Since she had been ripped away from her own time her happy memories had become painful, the distance tainting them and making them sad.

In truth, he had also struggled with maintaining a happy memory strong enough to form a corporeal patronus and it had been one of the more difficult ones for him to perform. "I might be able to help. Why don't you think about something from a more recent time if you can. Fresh memories might be better."

He stepped back, giving her some space as she shut her eyes, thinking, trying to pick a good one that was strong enough.

She thought of the relief she had felt when Regulus had survived after they had escaped the cave. That was definitely a happy memory. Focusing on that feeling she waved her wand. "Expecto patronum." A blast of shiny silver vapor spouted from her wand, but vanished quickly.

Closing her eyes she tried again, this time picturing the moment Narcissa told her she wanted to try getting pregnant again. "Expecto patronum." This time she managed to produce a conical shield before it faded too.

"Better, but not quite strong enough."

She closed her eyes and thought as hard as she could of all the times she had been happy since she had been here. And then it dawned on her. This was where she had been happiest: right here, in this room, dancing with Regulus.

Taking a deep breath she focused on the feeling and tried again. "Expecto patronum." This time the connection felt stronger the moment it emerged from her wand. Her otter flicked out and then shuddered and faded into mist.

Hermione's shoulders slumped. That was the happiest memory she could think of; she had been certain it would work.

Seeing her disheartened reaction, Regulus stepped forward. "Don't let it get to you, that was really good. You almost had it."

"But that was the happiest memory I could manage. I can't think of any others."

"Then don't use a memory. Dementors are creatures that feed off of despair. The best way to counter despair is not necessarily with happiness, but with hope. Think of something that makes you feel hopeful. It doesn't even have to be a real memory. Watch."

He closed his eyes for a moment, his chest expanding as he took in a deep breath before casting the spell. "Expecto patronum!"

A huge beast burst out of the end of his wand and bounded around the room with a huge loping gait.

The portraits around applauded and gasped in astonishment as the patronus passed by. The silvery creature stopped in front of him and when he reached out to touch its shaggy head it vanished.

Hermione felt her heart break as she watched the scene. Because without telling her he had shown her what his hopeful thought was because it was his patronus: a huge, bear-like dog with shaggy hair.

It was Padfoot.

She remembered how the part of Voldemort's soul had taken on the form of a bloody and beaten Sirius. How could a person's worst fear also be the one thing that gave them hope?

When he reached out to touch it, and she realized that his hope was not personified in Sirius, but in reconnecting with him and rebuilding the bond they had once shared as brothers.

A horrible gut-wrenching pain cut into her. She had been wrong. So wrong. She had thought that Regulus hated his brother. They were fighting on opposite sides and they seemed to loathe one another. But here it was before her, undeniable proof that his hope, his happiness, and the person he loved most was Sirius. Even now.

Tears burned in her eyes.

Regulus's hand and smile fell away as he turned and walked back to the desk, giving her space to practice.

Blinking and shaking her head to clear her mind she focused on what would make her feel hopeful. What did she want now? Voldemort dead? Destroyed once and for all? No, that wasn't it. She was too afraid she would fail. Finding all the horcruxes wasn't it either. And now without her friends and her family it had mostly just been her and the mission. Her main focus was survival. And that wasn't a hopeful thought. So she dug into herself. If Regulus's hope came from the possibility of reuniting with his brother, then she supposed that her hope was to one day see her friends again, even it would be different from how it was. To see Harry grow up with James and Lily. For Ron and the rest of the Weasleys to live together happily in The Burrow. For Narcissa to have the baby she so desperately craved. For Sirius to get to know his godson. For Regulus to reunite with his brother. Her hope was the possibility that they had a chance at happier lives.

She held onto that feeling, letting it course through her as she waved her wand. "Expecto patronum." The otter burst forth from the end of her wand, glimmering bright and silvery blue as it swam around her, twisting playfully.

The portraits around her clapped and oohed and ahhed at the playful creature when it zoomed around the room, but the best praise came from the feeling she had seeing it again, knowing that she had made it possible with hope for a better future. The otter circled around Regulus on its way back to her and the smile he gave her made her believe that things this time around really could be better, and she could make all the difference in the world.

* * *

When the NEWTs were over Hermione slept for a full day and half without waking. All her exhaustion hit her from her weeks of studying as soon as she hit her pillow. When she awoke near mid-afternoon on the second day she found Cassiopeia in the lounge reading a book.

"What time is it?" she asked groggily.

"It's 2:30 p.m. And it's Sunday."

"What?!"

"You've been asleep for a while."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Higgy and I agreed that you needed your rest. You were exhausted."

"Oh, no," she said, slumping into a chair and pressing her hands to her cheeks. "I told Regulus and Narcissa I'd let them know how it went afterwards. They're going to worry now that I've kept them waiting this long."

"I already told them both that you did well and were resting. Regulus came by and left you a gift. It's over there on the table."

Hermione picked it up and examined the small rectangular package. It was neatly wrapped in silver paper and tied with a green bow. Hermione couldn't help but shake her head, knowing he wrapped it in Slytherin colors to annoy her. Inside the wrapping paper was a card, a book called _Magical Music: A History of the Art_, and a large bar of Honeydukes chocolate with a chili caramel filling. The card read: "For your recovery."

She laughed and Cassiopeia eyed the gift with a private smile as Hermione showed her the card. "A bottle of scotch might have also been in order."

Hermione laughed and took the chocolate back upstairs and curled up with the new book in the blankets on her bed, and for the first time in weeks she read something that wasn't going to come up in an exam.


	19. Chapter 19: Bitter Medicine

**Chapter: Bitter Medicine**

Regulus met Severus at the Twin Crowns pub in Knockturn Alley. There were often less than friendly folk in the dingy pub, and it was not uncommon to find a Death Eater or two there. Regulus found Severus in a dark corner booth and slid in.

A quick silencing spell was their usual procedure and he put one up without a second thought. Severus had a bottle of Ogden's in front of him and from the looks of the bottle he had already been here for some time.

"What's wrong Sev?" Regulus asked cautiously.

"She did it. She married Potter." Severus poured himself another glass and groaned miserably.

"You knew she would. They've been engaged for a year now."

"But Potter? Of all people, why Potter? It just doesn't make sense."

"I'm sorry Severus. I really am."

"She was my friend. My only friend for so long. And then one dumb mistake and she won't even talk to me."

"We both know it's not as simple as that."

It wasn't that simple. Severus still blamed himself for calling her a mudblood, but the truth was that Severus had never told Lily about his feelings for her. And as a Slytherin with promise he had been pulled into the recruitment by the other Death Eaters as well. Regulus understood why Severus had done it. He was always trying to prove himself better than his half-blood heritage. He did anything he could to distance himself from the drunken brute who had sired him. And proving he was the best, the most gifted, had set him on a path ripe for the picking when the Death Eaters came calling. He had resisted at first, but when Lily started dating James in his seventh year he gave in, once again hoping that he could prove his worth if he was more powerful than rich, pureblood Potter.

Regulus pulled the bottle away from him. "Sev, I know it's hard to hear, and harder still to do, but you have to find a way to move past this. You deserve better than her."

"I don't care if she's muggleborn, I want her. It was always her," he groaned, his face falling into his hands.

"I didn't mean that. I mean you deserve someone who can love you back."

"Since when has Mr. Black gotten over his prejudices?"

"You don't know me half as well as you think you do, Severus."

"I know you better than you think. Besides, no one is ever going to love me. I'm not handsome or athletic like fucking Potter. Lily was the only one besides my own mother who ever gave a damn about me. She was the only one who cared. The only one who ever saw me, _really _saw me."

Regulus pulled his glass away from him too. "Sev, you're being ridiculous. Of course you can find someone else. And if you're bothered by those minor things then get a proper haircut and go exercise, but I'm telling you that those things don't matter to the right person. And clearly Lily wasn't the right person. There's still someone out there for you, Sev."

"That's easy for you to say. Look at you. Rich, pureblood, heir to the family fortune with a solid career lined up. You could have any woman you wanted."

"No sane woman would want to join my family."

Severus gave him a dubious look, but then shrugged. He had had the misfortune of meeting Regulus's mother before. It had not been a pleasant affair.

"A lot of women would look past it for your fortune alone."

"Gee, what a lovely thought," Regulus said sourly, smacking aside Severus's hand as he reached for the glass. "That's enough for you, Sev. Let's stop talking about Lily since clearly it's only going to make things worse. Tell me about your mission. How did it go?"

"Oh, I didn't get the job, I know that's a real shocker. Botched the whole thing. I was spying on Dumbledore as he interviewed with a 'Seer' for the divination position. The woman seemed batty to me, but Dumbledore went and so I followed. And I heard a part of a prophecy she made. And I'm not one to believe in that branch of magic, but I definitely overheard a real one. It was about the Dark Lord too and some prophesized hero who will vanquish him."

"What did she say? Severus, tell me exactly what you heard," Regulus instructed seriously, leaning across the table.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…._ That was all I managed to hear before I was discovered and the barman threw me out."

"Did you tell the Dark Lord?" Regulus asked in a frantic whisper.

"Of course! He's very pleased with me. He gave me quite a bit of gold as a reward. Which is why I'm drowning my sorrows in Ogden's finest and not the usual swill from this place." With that he reached across the table and took back the bottle and glass.

Regulus closed his eyes and shook his head in deep frustration. "Sev, do you have any idea what you've done?!" Regulus said in a heated whisper, even with the silencing charm up.

"What does it matter? It's probably just a bunch of garbage. Prophecies always are."

"Not unless someone believes it to be true and acts on it! Sev, this is prophecy about an infant that hasn't even been born yet! What do you think the Dark Lord will do?"

"What the Dark Lord always does. Kill the whelp. And maybe the bitch too."

"You really are such an idiot sometimes, Sev," Regulus cursed, digging his fingers into the leather of the booth.

"Fuck you too," Severus spat, throwing back the last of his glass.

He reached for the bottle and Regulus summoned it away from him.

"Give that back."

"Don't be like your father, Sev."

"Fuck you!" Severus spat, standing up abruptly.

He swayed on the spot and Regulus stood his ground as Severus got in his face, pointing his finger at his nose. "You-"

But Regulus had had enough. He sent a stunner at Snape's abdomen and he fell unconscious on his feet just in time for Regulus to catch him under the arm. Before anyone noticed he disapparated with Severus.

He half dragged him up the stairs to his dingy flat over a muggle deli. When he was finally inside he dropped Severus on the bed with a groan.

The flat was a sorry thing, hardly large enough to hold anything besides the bed and a couple of chairs.

With a sigh, Regulus turned him on his side and put a trash can in front of him. If this was what he was like when Lily got married, what was going to happen when he found out he delivered the prophecy about her son. Hermione may not have told him all the details, including the ones about the damn prophecy, but he had heard enough from her to parse it together. All her hatred over Dumbledore's cryptic messages to send her and her friends on some suicide mission had not gone unnoticed. Nor had the image of a young James, whom he now realized must be his son Harry, from the battle against the locket faded from his mind. It had been easy enough to connect the dots after her reaction to the wand choosing her. Which meant that this prophecy, the one made in front of Dumbledore and relayed to Voldemort put Lily Potter in risk as soon as she became pregnant. Voldemort didn't care about murdering women and children. He had no code or honor. He was a monster. And Severus may have just delivered the woman he loved most in the world into the monster's maw.

He pulled out the fake galleon from his pocket and sent a message to Hermione. It was time they talked.

* * *

Hermione felt a burning sensation at her hip and rolled over sleepily. Illuminating her wand she pulled the coin from her pocket. Regulus wanted to meet with her. Privately. She groaned as she looked at the time and rubbed her eyes. An address followed his first message and as soon as she was dressed she apparated to the location.

Glancing around she headed towards the alley and ducked under the stone archway. Regulus was waiting there, stepping out of the shadows and giving Hermione a fright.

"Don't do that! It's creepy enough out here. Now what is it, what's going on?"

"We need to talk."

"I got that. What about?"

"Severus heard a prophecy that he passed on to the Dark Lord. I know you know something about it and I know it involves Lily and James's son. Now what do you know from your time?"

Hermione had been dreading this. She hadn't said anything about the prophecy because she hoped...desperately...foolishly, that she might be able to finish Voldemort and his horcruxes off before Lily became pregnant.

"Tell me what you know," she said, and he told her about Severus discovering the prophecy. "That's only part of it, I'm afraid."

She told him the rest and explained that in her time Voldemort believed it to be about Harry, Lily and James's son. She told him about the first time he fell when he tried to kill Harry after Lily sacrificed herself to save him. She told him how Dumbledore had told Hagrid to take Harry to the Dursleys and how horrible they were to him. And she told him that Sirius had been his godfather and had tried to take him after Hagrid found him, but Hagrid had refused on Dumbledore's orders. And she told him, as painful as it was for her to do so, the truth about Sirius. That he had gone after Peter Pettigrew in his grief and been wrongfully convicted and sent to Azkaban. And she told him how in their fifth year Voldemort and Kreacher had tricked Harry into taking the prophecy from the Hall of Prophecies in the Department of Mysteries. How they had been ambushed by the Death Eaters waiting for them there and how they had only escaped with their lives because the Order members showed up at the last minute and saved them. And then, choking on her tears, she told him how Sirius had died after Bellatrix attacked him. "But we're going to stop it. We're going to make sure that none of it happens," she promised, stepping closer to Regulus, who stepped away from her, stony-faced and silent. He didn't say anything as he avoided looking at her in the eye. A muscle jumped in his neck.

"I'm sorry, Regulus. I'm so sorry."

But he said nothing and when she tried to step towards him he held up his hand and she slumped, crushed to see him in pain and unable to help him.

"None of it will come to pass. You're still here. We can make sure it doesn't happen. We can protect them. We can."

He said nothing, didn't even look at her as he swept out of the alley and disapparated. She lingered in the alleyway, hoping that he might come back, but she knew that he would not, that he needed time to process this information. She prayed that she was right and she would be able to keep Sirius safe, keep Lily safe, keep James safe, and keep Harry safe too. But she was learning the hard way, that keeping Regulus safe from the truth was not going to be a viable option for long.

Regulus did not scream or rage like Sirius. He did not break things and tear apart a room like Sirius did. Regulus was quiet. Regulus hid his emotions. Regulus did not throw or break things. He took his grief and his rage and his pain and turned it inward so it wouldn't show.

He stood in the darkness of the gallery before Phineas Nigellus. "You didn't tell me how it happened, grandfather. You didn't tell me about Sirius, not the whole truth."

Phineas let out a quiet sigh. "I don't know the whole story. I wasn't there for it all."

Regulus nodded his head slowly. He had heard Phineas tell him his brother had died, but there had been more, so much more to the story. And hearing it from Hermione, who had known Sirius then, was all the more heartbreaking. He couldn't even picture a Sirius that never smiled, forced to stay shut up in this empty forsaken house. It was too much. He felt claustrophobic just thinking about it, the walls closing in little by little until there was no air left, only painful memories.

Shutting his eyes he took in deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. It didn't have to end up that way. He and Hermione could stop it from happening. He held onto that hope, the hope that his brother would be alright and waved his wand. The great silvery loping shaggy bear-like dog burst from the wand and bounded chaotically around the room, lighting up the surroundings as it passed. Regulus watched it: leaping effortlessly, its bright eyes, the way the shaggy fur rustled as it moved. It was freedom and joy and independence all in one. It was everything Regulus was not.

* * *

Cassiopeia knocked on the door of Hermione's room when, after several attempts from Higgy, the girl had refused to get out of bed and come down for breakfast. "Hermione, dear, are you ill?" When no answer came she knocked on the door again. "Hermione, are you alright?" She heard a groan and pressed her lips together, knocking one more time. "Hermione, if you don't open the door I'm coming in anyway."

The door opened and there was Hermione, curled up under the blankets, her wand still pointed at the door.

"What's the matter, dear? Are you ill? Let me look at you."

"I'm fine. Just please, leave me alone."

Cassiopeia smoothed her skirts and sat on the edge of the bed.

Hermione's forehead and curls stuck out from a hole in the jumbled blanket pretzel she had twisted herself into.

Placing the back of her hand against Hermione's exposed forehead, she took her temperature as the girl squirmed beneath the blankets.

"I'm not ill. Please, just leave me alone."

Cassiopeia sighed and set her hand back in her lap. "Hermione, dear, let me help. Tell me what's wrong."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Cassiopeia nodded slowly and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, I know I'm not actually your aunt, but I do care about you. I'd like to help you, if I can. But you need to tell me what's got you so upset."

"You can't help. I couldn't help. And they died."

Cassiopeia was beginning to understand. The poor girl was still dealing with her grief. What with another giant attack in the news the other day and the stress of waiting for her exam results, it was no wonder she was this upset. The whole world was growing drearier and drearier by the day. It was enough to affect anyone.

"Hermione, it was not your fault. None of it. You can't blame yourself. Your parents wouldn't want that for you."

A muffled cry came from inside the cocoon and Cassiopeia sighed and lay down on the bed next to her, rubbing her shoulder.

"Hermione, it's going to be alright. I know it doesn't feel like it now, but it will in time."

Hermione sobbed into her pillow, sniffing softly as Cassiopeia rubbed her shoulder and tried her best to soothe the poor girl.

"Do you want me to send an owl to Regulus? He seems to know how to cheer you up," she offered kindly.

This was evidently the wrong thing to say as Hermione cried harder and shook her head fervently.

"Alright, dear. I'm going to go make a cup of tea. I'll be right back."

Cassiopeia sent a quick owl to Regulus asking him to come visit the next morning. She'd drag him here by the ear if she had to, but for politeness's sake she sent him an owl first.

* * *

Regulus did not need to be dragged in by the ear. He came in through the floo the next morning, looking a bit the worse for wear. His normally smooth hair was rebelling against him and his attempts to comb it. His face was clean shaven but he had ignored a nick on his chin and hadn't bothered to heal it. The dark circles under his eyes were proof of a night of ill rest at the least.

He arrived before Cassiopeia had finished breakfast.

"Is she alright?" were the first words out of his mouth without so much a "hello" or "good morning."

Cassiopeia shook her head and wiped her lips. "No. She hasn't been alright for the last twenty-four hours. She's in quite a state. I'm sorry if I frightened you, but I'm really worried. I think she could use a friend. She won't talk to me."

Hermione listened on the stairs as Cassiopeia expressed her worries to Regulus. She felt horrible about the last time they spoke. Guilty and morose and hopeless. It was all too much. Too much pressure. Too much weighing on her. Too much fighting to keep it together.

But she had cried herself out sometime in the middle of the night. She had let herself fall apart and now she was picking up the pieces. She couldn't keep doing this. She had to find a way to rebuild herself stronger, steadier. This wasn't a game she could afford to lose. She had to do whatever it took to win. Voldemort would not be destroyed if she gave anything less. And Hermione Granger never backed down from a challenge, no matter how daunting. Gryffindor through and through.

There was a scuffling sound as chairs were pulled back and Hermione stood from her spot on the stairs and came around the corner almost the moment Regulus did.

He stopped a hair's breadth from her and Cassiopeia, who had been about to call up to her breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh, Hermione, there you are. Regulus stopped by, I think-"

"If it's alright with you, might I have a private word in the sitting room with Regulus, Cassie?"

She hesitated for the briefest moment. "Yes, of course. I'll be just in the other room if you need me."

Hermione went to the other room and Regulus followed. Hermione cast the silencing spell on the doorways.

"I know it's hard to hear the things I've told you from my time, but I believe that we can change them. Things are already different. You're here."

"I know," he said with a guilty tone. "And I'm sorry for leaving like that. But you're keeping things from me that I need to know. If we're in this together, I have to know what you do. I have to know what we're up against."

"I understand. I promise from now on I'll tell you the truth, no matter what. But it's hard for me, Regulus, it's hard for me to deal with this without you. You're the only one who knows about me. You're the only one who knows my true name. I've lost everything and everyone, Regulus. I'm alone here. I need you. I need you to be able to handle hearing difficult things because you're the only person I can talk to about any of it. And I want you to know, I'm here for you, no matter what."

He nodded solemnly, once again wearing that stoic stone mask of his.

"I mean it. You can talk to me. About anything."

"There actually is something that I need to tell you. But not here."

They returned to the kitchen and Regulus told Cassiopeia he wanted to take Hermione out for some fresh air at the coast for the day to help make her feel better. Cassiopeia agreed, telling him to take a portrait. He pulled Cepheus's portrait from his breast pocket and showed it to her before placing it back. Hermione had been quick to return it after Dumbledore had owled it to her with a note of thanks.

Once he had apparated the two of them to just outside of Kraken's Cove Cottage, Hermione pointed at his pocket. "Why did you have to bring a portrait with you?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, as if he wasn't quite sure she was making a joke or not. When he realized it was the latter he felt a flush crawl up the back of his neck. "It's a method of making sure we're chaperoned."

She frowned at this. "But we've been together plenty of times without a chaperone."

"Technically, that's not true."

"But at Grimmauld Place we would study for ages and your parents were never there."

"Kreacher and the portraits there act as chaperones."

"But... the party?"

He was beginning to wonder if arguing a point was second nature to her. Patting his breast pocket again he said, "Cepheus. And you had Phineas too, although I'm not sure he counts if he's tucked into your bag where he can't see or hear."

"But I still don't understand why we need to be chaperoned. We're two legal adults who are capable of using magic. And I've never been asked to go out chaperoned when I was with the Weasleys or anyone else. Is it like a warning system because wizards don't have phones or pagers?"

"What?"

Hermione quickly explained that they were muggle communication devices similar to the coin she had given him.

"No, it's not exactly like that. It's general procedure for pureblood high society." They had reached the door of the cottage and Regulus pulled out his wand to open the door, avoiding eye contact.

"But why then?"

"It's supposed to keep pureblood witches and wizards honorable and... virtuous."

"Oh." Hermione blushed a deep crimson as understanding dawned on her and she stared down at the floor as he hung up his jacket. A part of her wanted to ask more questions, but she had a distinct feeling that explaining this part of wizarding society might be a job for Cassiopeia or Narcissa.

But then another, horrible thought occurred to her. "They-the portraits that is-don't report everything we say and do back to your family, do they?" Her eyes flashed a warning to make sure he understood she was talking about their secret mission.

"They won't say anything. Cepheus knows about what we did and so does Phineas, but they aren't going to say anything."

"You're certain?"

"As much as I can be." This did little to comfort Hermione, but when he saw her expression of doubt he said, "If my parents knew the truth both of us would probably be dead."

Hermione nodded, in a you-have-a-point kind of way.

"Hermione," he said, sitting down at the table across from her as she lit the fire with her wand. "There's something that we need to discuss first. Something I meant to tell you the other night. Severus heard a prophecy about the Dark Lord and informed him about it. He said that the one who will vanquish the Dark Lord will be born at the end of July to parents who had defied him three times."

"There's more to it than that," Hermione explained, repeating the full prophecy to him.

"And you mentioned that your friend Harry was the one Voldemort was after. He was one of the figures who came out of the locket, right?"

She nodded.

"He's the one who looks like James, James Potter? Is he Lily and James's son?"

Hermione nodded. "And Sirius's godson," she added.

Regulus ran a hand through his hair and let out a deep sigh.

"What is it?" She watched his face with concern as Regulus battled it over in his mind whether he should tell her or not.

Finally, he decided it was important enough to the mission that he would have to betray his friend's trust.

"Regulus?" Hermione asked tentatively.

He ran his hand through his hair again. "Before I tell you what I'm about to tell you, I need you to swear that it will stay between us."

"I promise."

Taking a deep breath he told her. "Severus has been in love with Lily ever since they were children. He's still in love with her, even though she's married to James now."

The information was slow to reach her brain, as memories popped up. Gears churned in Hermione's head, trying to digest this information.

Regulus watched on nervously as the realizations began to dawn on her.

"But Snape hated Harry... oh, but he looks like James and he's James's son too. And Voldemort killed Lily when she tried to protect Harry. Oh, Merlin, this explains a lot."

Regulus lifted an eyebrow.

"Snape did hate Harry. But if what you say is true, then maybe he hated him because he was James's son. But he couldn't hate him completely because he's Lily's son too. Dumbledore always said he had absolute faith in Snape when he turned his back on the Death Eaters to join our side. This must be it." She frowned suddenly. "But Snape was the one who killed Dumbledore…"

"What? When did this happen?"

"Right after Dumbledore and Harry returned from the cave with your fake horcrux. Dumbledore drank the potion. He was badly weakened from what Harry said."

"And Snape just killed him?"

"No, the castle was being attacked by the Death Eaters. Draco, Narcissa's son, got their first. Voldemort had ordered him to kill Dumbledore. He very nearly killed two of my friends instead, including Narcissa's son, Draco. Voldemort was threatening to kill him if he didn't do it. But Draco couldn't. Other Death Eaters arrived and Snape was the one who did it."

"Maybe it was a mercy killing. Snape knew the boy couldn't do it and the others would be cruel, so he ended it quickly."

A cold silence settled over them.

"Hang on, it still doesn't make sense. Harry saw Snape's memories. James was bullying him and when Lily stepped in he called her 'mudblood' so how could he love her and call her that?"

"Oh, he did call her that. And he paid dearly for it. He went groveling to her trying to apologize. The others in his year mocked him for it. And she didn't forgive him. He was already being recruited to become a Death Eater at that point. Lily had already chosen her side. It was the beginning of the end of their friendship."

"And if Snape was the reason Voldemort knew about the prophecy and that he was the one who put her in Voldemort's path, then he must have carried that guilt around for years."

There was a pause before Regulus spoke. "Do you think the prophecy is about you? Since Harry's wand chose you?"

She barked a laugh, stunning him. "Oh, not a chance. My parents were muggles and my birthday is September 19th. Or is going to be, I suppose, depending on how you look at it. Prophecies are nonsense anyway."

"Says the witch who masquerades as a seer to impress people."

"That's not why I did it and you know it!" she snapped, folding her arms across her chest.

He chuckled and shook his head at her. "Fine, fine. You did it to get a rise out of my mother, right?"

She chewed her lip and scuffed the floor with her shoe. "Maybe."

"Hermione, you have to be more careful. If word gets out about any of your predictions being right, which I'm guessing they will be, then people will seek you out. And we know now that the Dark Lord believes in them."

Hermione's blood ran cold at the thought. She knew Death Eaters had taken people captive for much less. Tortured and killed for much less. A bone stretching sigh swept through her. "I know. I'm sorry."

"It's alright. Part of me wishes you were a seer. It would make it easier to find the horcruxes."

Hermione nodded and said, "I've been sneaking around the muggle library under the invisibility cloak and I think I've found the village of Little Hangleton where the Riddles and the Gaunts used to live. But I can't seem to find the shack on any city maps. I think the Gaunts or Voldemort, most likely, put a spell on it to make it unplottable. Without a way to find it by magic, I'll have to just go and poke around until I run into something."

"I'll have a look at some of the books and items back home. The Blacks have made all their homes into unplottable fortresses over the centuries. Leave that part to me."

She nodded and pulled out some maps she had borrowed from the library that showed the village and gave them to him to look at in case they helped. "Have you heard anything about the diary?" she asked nervously. She hated the idea of him still attending the Death Eater meetings and participating in their inner circle's dealings.

"I think Lucius has it in his possession. I'm not sure where though. Do you think he'd hide it at home? Maybe in his library? Or some hidden place?"

"There's a room filled with dark artifacts under the drawing room. We could check there."

"How do you know?"

She bit her lip and looked down at her hands in her lap, willing them to be still as she clutched her left wrist.

"Is that where...it happened?" Regulus asked gently, noticing her reaction.

"Yes, we were caught by Snatchers. Fenrir Greyback and a couple others looking to turn in runaway muggleborns for a few extra galleons. They caught my friend Dean Thomas and a goblin too. And Greyback took us to Malfoy Manor, which Voldemort was using as a base at the time. I used a stinging hex on Harry to make him unrecognizable. Draco pretended he couldn't tell if it was us or not. But Bellatrix recognized me. We had the Sword of Gryffindor back then too and she became very scared and furious when she saw we had it. It was supposed to be in her vault at Gringotts locked up safely. But Snape must have switched the real one and given her a fake.

"The others were thrown in the cellar. She tortured me though. Carved 'mudblood' into my skin. She's quite good at the cruciatus curse. I read that you have to mean it when you do it. You have to want to hurt the other person. And she wanted to hurt me. I think a part of my mind blacked out because she brought the goblin up and he lied and told her the sword was a fake. And then she gave me to Greyback. He dragged me into the library and…" But she couldn't say it. She couldn't. Her lip quivered and she shook her head to clear it, biting back the nauseated sensation rising in her throat. "I got his wand and stunned him. Or maybe it wasn't my stunner. Draco had sent one too. Bellatrix had called Voldemort and he came." She paused, closing her eyes and taking a long breath as she steeled herself. "After he killed my friends Draco panicked and came to rescue me. He pulled me along a secret staircase and down into a room under the drawing room where he had the Vanishing Cabinet. That was how the Death Eaters got into Hogwarts my sixth year. They were a matched set. The other was at the castle in the Room of Lost Things. The same place as the horcrux. We were able to destroy that one. But the castle was overrun with Death Eaters and we tried to escape. Voldemort found us in the end.

"Draco and Snape gave their lives defending me. While Draco and I were trapped in the room we found the broken time turner. Draco tried to fix it, but he didn't have enough time. I hid in the Vanishing Cabinet and tried to use it. That's how I ended up here. We were actually supposed to come to this cottage. Narcissa had inherited it and we were going to use it as a safe house. But we never got the chance."

She hadn't looked at him once the whole time she'd said it. She couldn't.

Regulus, in contrast, found it difficult to look away from her. He grit his teeth and shut his eyes, hating himself for being so stupid. He should have realized. He should have known when she had suggested the attack by the werewolf as her cover story. It wasn't a cover at all, but a different painting of the truth. She had been sent back through time and space after being on the run and tortured and attacked. And just after losing her last friend and facing off against insurmountable odds she had rescued him, treated him, saved his life, and how had he rewarded her? By tying her up and treating her like a hostage. Shame, course and raw and hot spread through him like poison. "I'm sorry for all that you've been through. No one deserves that."

A long tense silence stretched between them.

Hermione couldn't bring herself to look at him. It made her feel ashamed. She hadn't been able to defend her friends or herself. And talking about them, their deaths, to someone who never knew them, never really understood what it meant to lose them made her feel hollow, like a piece of herself was missing.

"I didn't know what it would mean, when I found out I was a witch. I never guessed that I would be thrown into a war. But I guess it's different for you. You grew up with Voldemort gaining power. It must have been different for you. Did...did you know what you were getting into when you joined?"

Regulus was quiet, staring down at the table, carefully running his finger down a deep crack in the wood. "I thought I did. I was wrong," he said simply, but a dark shadow passed over his face.

Hermione knew she shouldn't, but she had to ask. It had been clawing at her ever since she met him. She had to know. "Regulus, why did you join the Death Eaters? I've seen the articles in your room. I know you've followed Voldemort's actions since you were fourteen, at least. But everything I know about you… it just doesn't add up. Why did you join them?"

Regulus did not look up from the table as he traced the crack, his face a stoic mask, revealing nothing. "I chose to join. It _was_ my choice."

Hermione strained in her seat as she leaned across the table. She couldn't accept that this person, her friend, someone who had been willing to sacrifice his own life for his house elf in the hopes of bringing down Voldemort would have seen the crimes being committed and still joined. "But why, Regulus?"

"I had my reasons."

"But you, the you that I know, you're good."

Regulus was silent, his fingers frozen to the wood surface of the table. He couldn't remember the last time someone had called him good. The thought made him chuckle, shaking his head slightly at the notion. Good? He was a marked Death Eater. He wasn't good. Not by any stretch of the imagination. "Did you forget that I held you hostage and interrogated you after you saved my life?"

She frowned and stared at him seriously, ignoring his dark humor. She had seen the surprise light up his eyes when she had called him good. And the disbelief as well. "Regulus, I mean it. You are a good man."

His sharp eyes flicked up at her, studying her face, trying to read her. "I'm not."

The finality of his words hit her like a slap. Because he believed them. Completely.

Sitting straighter in her chair she folded her arms defiantly. "Well I believe you are, even if you don't believe it yourself."

The smile he gave her did not reach his eyes. "Good men don't become Death Eaters, Hermione."

"A good man does whatever he can to try and stop the evil he sees in the world," she countered.

"I may be trying to stop them, but I am also still one of them." He rolled up his shirt sleeve to reveal the mark, but his eyes were on her.

"You're not. Not to me."

There was a long silence in which he stared at her, those brown eyes defiant and courageous and stubborn beyond belief. "Believe what you will, but it isn't the truth. I think I should be the one to search Malfoy Manor. Alone. You shouldn't have to go back there."

"No. I'm going with you."

He opened his mouth to protest but the set of her jaw told him it was useless to argue the point. She had already been back to the house for tea with Narcissa.

"I think that's a bad idea," he said quietly, even though he knew she wouldn't listen.

"The Malfoys are hosting a Halloween ball at the manor. I helped Narcissa put together the invitations. We're both on the guest list. We can look then."

She said it with such force that he didn't bother to protest or question her resolve; she would be immovable no matter how hard he tried to get her to budge.

"We won't have a lot of time before we're missed."

"I know."

"I'm looking into creating a detector for dark magic. Hopefully I can come up with something that might help."

"There's a good chance that the diary isn't the only source of dark magic in the manor. But it would definitely be useful."

"And what about the cup?"

"I think it's in the Lestrange vault in Gringotts during my time, but I have no idea if it's there now. Or if they even have it."

"I think there's a strong chance that the Lestranges do have it. But I think that we shouldn't rule out Rosier or Avery. Maybe even Dolohov or Mulciber. Their fathers were some of the first to join and become Death Eaters. They've been loyal to Voldemort practically since birth."

"Okay. That's a good idea."

There was a pause and Hermione leaned forward. "There's one more thing I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is it?"

"I want you to keep training me in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Hermione, you already took the test, and I'm sure you passed with flying colors."

"No, it's not that," she said, shaking her head. "Regulus, I need to be a better fighter. I don't know what will happen, but I do know that if we succeed in destroying all the horcruxes, there's going to be a fight against Voldemort and the Death Eaters down the line. If that's the case, I have to be ready and I'll have to be able to hold my own. I need you to make me better."

He didn't bother telling her she was already a good fighter. She knew that and so did he. She also knew exactly what they were up against and he understood.

"Of course I'll help. It will be good practice for me too. But we're not going to be able to do it as often as the study sessions without a decent excuse."

Hermione thought for a while, but then it came to her. "Flying. I'm terrible on a broom. You were seeker for your quidditch team, right? Why don't we tell Cassie and your parents that you're giving me flying lessons."

"And what happens if they actually see you on a broomstick and you still can't fly after all the lessons?"

"That my fear is keeping me grounded. But hopefully they won't ask."

He rubbed a hand through his hair. "This plan is already full of holes. But I suppose it will have to do. Fine."

He stood up and crossed the room to get his jacket.

"What, now?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"No one will see us down on the beach. It will be a good spot to practice."

For the rest of the morning and a good portion of the afternoon he taught her spells and they practiced dueling, sending jets of colorful light across the sand.

Hermione was a quick study and picked up on several of the new spells he taught her, putting them into good use during their practice duels. They stopped when a rebounding hex sent a stone at Hermione's forehead, leaving a bloody graze.

Regulus ran over to her the moment he realized his error and made her sit down so he could look at it. A smear of blood spilled from the wound. "I'm really sorry about that."

"It's fine," she grumbled, wincing as he touched her forehead and muttered a healing spell.

"You're pretty good at that," Hermione said, touching the healed skin with her finger where there wasn't even a trace of a scar.

He gently wiped the blood away with a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket.

Hermione resisted the urge to snort: of course Regulus was the kind of person who would have a handkerchief. She was incredibly aware of how close his face was to hers and she tried to focus on her hands as he leaned in closer to dab at her skin. She could smell the clean scent of his freshly laundered shirt still, and a faint scent of wood smoke from sitting by the fire in the cottage. No matter how hard she tried to focus on her hands her eyes kept glancing at him before darting away again.

His warm fingers grazed her and she felt her cheek lean into his touch for the barest second before she caught herself and ducked her chin.

"Look at me," he said softly, putting his other hand under her chin with feather-light fingers.

Heart pounding in her throat she met his gaze. His strong hands held her chin with such surprising gentleness. When his silver eyes met hers the breath in her lungs froze there. Was he going to kiss her? Did she _want _him to kiss her? It was so hard to think with the intensity of his expression causing her heart to hammer in her chest. She prayed he couldn't hear it.

Just when she thought he might he tipped his head and wiped away a trickle of blood that had gone down her cheek to her jawline.

Cursing herself for her foolishness she tried to look away from him, but with his face only inches away it was proving to be difficult. She wanted to reach up and touch his smooth, strong jawline, tracing it with her fingers up to his sharp cheekbones before threading her fingers through his lustrous black hair. Feeling the blush rise against her neck she banished the thought from her mind, focusing solely on the feeling of sand beneath her feet.

Regulus leaned back to check that he hadn't missed any spots. "I think I got it. At least I won't be returning you to Aunt Cass all bloody."

"Not again, anyway," she reminded him with a smirk. But then her face fell, ashamed. "I hate lying to her. She's been so kind to me and everything she knows about me is a lie."

"It can't all be a lie. You're still the same person."

"Am I?" she asked, looking at him, but talking more to herself. Was she still the same person who she was back at Hogwarts with Harry and Ron and the rest of her classmates? It felt so distant from her now, like something from a book and not her actual life. "You don't even know who I was before I came here. No one does." She rolled the wand in her hands, remembering her old wand and her old life and the girl she used to be before this place.

"I don't know who you were before we met, but I'd like to. If you'd like to tell me, that is."

A smile tugged at her lips. "Okay."

He smiled at her and helped her to her feet. She swayed briefly, holding her hand to her head and he put his hands on her shoulders, steadying her.

"Maybe another time. I think I need to rest if that's okay with you."

"Of course," he said, offering his arm to her to take her back to Cassiopeia's so she could lie down. He liked the way her hand gripped his arm, and when they arrived back in Cassiopeia's townhouse he regretted the moment she took it away.

Hermione thanked him and climbed the stairs up to her room to go to bed.

As he walked the long way home he flexed his fingers, remembering the softness of her cool, windburned cheek with a smile that carried him all the way home.


	20. Chapter 20: Birthday Surprise

**Chapter 20: Birthday Surprise**

Hermione woke up on her birthday thoroughly miserable. She had never been able to celebrate it properly with her parents since she had gone to school, but today was her actual day of birth and she knew that as of 5:04 in the morning she was not the only Hermione Granger in the world. Somewhere in a muggle hospital her mother and father were holding their brand new baby girl and little did they know that another nineteen-year-old version of their daughter was in London at that very moment.

Wiping at her eyes she took a long breath and mentally prepared for the day. She had plans to treat herself to a walk around the bookstore and at least three scoops of ice cream before the day was over and she didn't intend to wait.

It had always been a tradition for her parents to treat her to a present (usually a book) and a scoop of ice cream while they did her back to school shopping in Diagon Alley as a pre-birthday celebration since they wouldn't get to be there with her on the actual day. It was the one time a year they let her indulge in something sweet. But they had always sent her sugar free candies, a stack of books that were not in any way educational, and a card telling her how much they loved her on the actual day.

This year there would be no card, but Hermione was still going to get her bloody damn books and ice cream, even if she had to do it alone.

She slunk down to the kitchen with a determined nonchalance. As usual, Cassiopeia was sitting at the table already, reading the copy of the Daily Prophet with a frown. It was always bad news and Hermione could tell from the line between her brows that she was reading about something particularly unpleasant. To Hermione's surprise, instead of her usual cup of tea and plate of breakfast waiting for her at her spot there was a large box wrapped in blue tissue paper and a white ribbon. Hermione blinked, looking from Cassiopeia to the present and back again.

Cassiopeia smiled at her and set the paper down, folding her hands demurely beneath her chin. "Well there's the birthday girl. About time you came down for breakfast. Higgy made your favorite Chelsea buns. I hope you're hungry."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth until her feet carried her to the seat and she plopped down. "What is this? How did you know?"

"That is a gift. It's a typical custom to give gifts to the birthday girl. I hope you like it. And Regulus mentioned it in an owl a week ago or so. I think he knew that it would be a rough day for you without your family and he wanted to make sure it didn't pass by without proper celebration. He's a sweet boy like that. So I talked with Higgy and we planned a special breakfast for you."

Right on cue Higgy stepped forward and snapped her fingers and all the delicious food Hermione smelled appeared before them on the table: iced Chelsea buns with currants and cinnamon, a piping hot teapot full of jasmine tea, fresh orange juice, strawberries cut into budding roses, and a stack of buttered toast.

Higgy waved away Hermione's words of thanks with a polite bow, beaming at the joy on Hermione's delighted face.

"Well go on, open your present so we can start in on the food."

Touched at her thoughtfulness Hermione tugged on the bow and ripped open the paper. Inside was a lovely blue and white cotton dress and a leatherbound copy of A Witch in a Wizard's World: A Guide for Breaking Through Barriers in your Career.

"Oh, Cassie, you shouldn't have." Hermione stroked the cover of the new book and felt tears of gratitude prick at her eyes.

Cassiopeia waved her comment away. "Nonsense. I've become quite fond of you, dear, and your company has brought me nothing but pleasure. So you see, I have every right to spoil you. Do you like your gifts?"

Hermione nodded, at a loss for words.

"Miss Krum should try on the dress before young Mr. Black arrives."

"What?" Hermione asked, turning from Higgy to Cassiopeia.

The witch took a slow sip of her tea. "Well, of course. You didn't think he would forget, did you?"

Hermione opened and closed her mouth again, at a loss as she held the book to her chest.

"Young Mr. Black has planned an outing for Miss Krum on her birthday. Miss Black and Higgy knows, but we is not spoiling it." Higgy rocked excitedly from one foot to the other as she watched Hermione set the book down and hold up the dress.

"Oh, Higgy, Cassie, thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me."

Cassiopeia shared a knowing smile with Higgy who began pushing her leg to usher her up the stairs to change. "Quick now, miss. He is coming very soon."

After Hermione had put on the dress Higgy helped her with her hair and makeup and a few minor alterations with the dress before tugging her excitedly back down the stairs.

Cassiopeia gave her an appraising look and smiled as Hermione gave a twirl in the new dress. "Lovely. Absolutely lovely, dear."

There was a flash of green flame from the other room and Regulus stepped into the kitchen doorway, knocking on the white wood trim. "I hope I'm not interrupting," he grinned, bowing his head, a package tucked under his arm. He was very handsome in his pressed black suit, his face clean shaven and his hair neatly combed.

"Not at all, Regulus, not at all. Do come in. Hermione was just showing Higgy and I her new dress. Isn't it lovely?"

"Indeed," he said admiringly, although if truth be told he didn't look at the dress, but Hermione's radiant smile. She was clearly very touched that he had remembered her birthday and gone through so much trouble. He had hoped it would cheer her up and he was glad to see his plan had worked.

"Is that for me?" she asked, pointing to the package under his arm.

He tucked it away and said, "Later."

"Now, Regulus, you didn't get her anything inappropriate did you?" Cassiopeia asked cheekily.

"Of course not, Aunt Cass. It's part of the surprise," he stage whispered to her.

Cassiopeia motioned for him to join them at the table.

"Happy birthday, by the way," Regulus added as he sat down.

"I didn't think you'd remember," she admitted, tucking her hair behind her ear as he served a Chelsea bun onto her plate.

"You constantly underestimate me, Miss Krum," he said with a wink before serving his aunt.

"Something I shall not do in the future, I can assure you."

The Chelsea bun was sweet and warm and the spice was perfectly balanced with the currants and the light airy cinnamon bread. She was halfway through her second one when there came a tap at the window from a hovering grey owl.

Cassiopeia, who was closest, opened the window and let the bird in. She flashed a grin at Hermione as she looked at the Ministry of Magic seal stamped on the back. "I think I can guess what this is," she said coyly, showing the two of them the seal before leaning across the table to hand it to Hermione, who grabbed it and tore it open, her eyes scanning the contents of the letter with feverish intensity.

She stood up suddenly, still focused on the letter, and Regulus and Cassiopeia immediately followed suit, exchanging worried glances. The color had drained from her face.

"Hermione?" Regulus asked tentatively.

At the sound of her name she tore her eyes away and looked at Regulus, beaming. Before either of them realized what was happening, Hermione had flung her arms around Regulus's neck, hugging him tightly. She released him just as quickly, both of them blushing to Cassiopeia's chagrin.

"Well don't keep us in suspense dear."

"Seven! All of them, look!" She thrust the letter out and showed them: she had received an 'O' in every single subject she had taken.

"Hermione, that's wonderful!" Cassiopeia praised her, clapping her hands together.

"You earned it," Regulus said to her.

"I couldn't have done it without you."

Regulus shook his head. "You would have done just as well without me. You earned every one of those yourself."

She thanked him again, but refrained from hugging or touching him again.

They sat back down to breakfast, talking excitedly about what possibilities this opened up for Hermione. Regulus told her about jobs at the ministry that she might be interested in and Cassiopeia not so subtly hinted that she would do well as a healer, offering to introduce her to several well-known healers who might take her under their wing. Hermione thanked them both, telling them she would consider all her options thoroughly.

Regulus took that as the moment to turn to his aunt. "If it's alright with you, Aunt Cass, I think it's about time for us to be off."

Aunt Cass nodded knowingly. "Do you have Cepheus with you today?" He showed her the portrait in his pocket before stowing it again. "Good. Behave yourself. And have a nice time." Cassiopeia waved to them both as he extended his arm to Hermione for side-along apparition.

* * *

They arrived at a dingy side street in London. "You're not taking me here to murder me, are you?" she asked nervously, glancing around the thin alleyway with broken glass and old beer cans littered about.

"No," he chuckled, leading her down the alley before stopping in front of a grimy greenhouse door.

"You are going to murder me," she muttered as he opened the door and they strode into the greenhouse.

Like so many magical and wondrous things she had seen, Hermione's breath caught in her throat at the sight that met her eyes. The greenhouse was much bigger on the inside. It seemed to stretch for miles with great looming ceilings that stretched high above them. Hermione heard birds singing and saw lucious overgrown plants climbing into a high canopy. A dusty but lustrous black and gold sign read, "Ambilly's Apiary: Family fun for all ages." Next to the sign was a list of rules which she quickly scanned.

Regulus approached a booth where a balding wizard sat, dozing in his chair. He cleared his throat to make himself known without startling the old gentleman, who blinked his eyes awake.

"Oh. Sorry, laddie. Hasn't been too busy lately. Just the two of you then?"

Regulus handed him the money and the man handed them each a ticket.

"Just feed it in the box at the gate."

Hermione watched as the man settled back into his chair and began to doze again.

They fed their tickets into the box and wandered in past the turnstile. The air around them suddenly felt warmer as if they stepped into a tropical paradise.

Hermione was suddenly quite glad she was wearing the cotton dress in this climate.

They followed a winding path where canary yellow birds fluttered into the air from a nearby tree as they approached, flying in artful circles. Gasping in astonishment, Hermione clutched Regulus's arm when a large bird with blue plumage stuck its long neck out from between two trees to stare at them.

"It's the size of a giraffe!" Hermione squealed as the bird lowered its head to gawk at them with its round green eyes. Sensing that they had no food, the enormous bird slunk off into the trees, scattering many smaller birds as it passed.

"Is that a toucan?" Hermione asked suspiciously, pointing at a bird with a large orange beak.

"Polly wanna hear a swear?" the bird said, opening its beak.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, jumping back when she realized it could talk.

Regulus chuckled and nudged her along the path. "No thank you, sir," he said to the bird.

"Sure? I knows some good ones!"

Regulus and Hermione laughed as they disappeared from view, climbing up a spiral staircase that wound around a thick vine-covered tree trunk. When they made it up to the top they came out on a large viewing platform that overlooked the canopy.

Leaning against the railing, Regulus pulled the package out and handed it to her. "Okay. Now you can open it."

She bit back a smile at the rectangular package covered in green wrapping paper and tied with a silver bow. She gave him a mocking glare and muttered, "So Slytherin of you," as she tore off the paper to reveal a large book: 1001 Magical Birds by Jakobi Assam. She opened the book to a random page to study the colorful drawing of a red and orange bird no larger than a sparrow, which according to the book was called a Flaming House Finch.

Regulus spotted a bird and pointed his wand at it and the book instantly flipped to a different page where that exact bird was stretching its beautifully drawn wings in the image.

"Rikoli's Red Warbler. Known to decorate their nests in flowers. Local magical tribes in its native rainforests believe them to be a good omen of fair fortune and an early spring." Hermione stared up at the bird in wonderment. "Oh, this is amazing!" she kept whispering, pointing at new birds every time she saw one and reading the facts listed under each entry. "That one is a Scarlet-chested Hornbill. They're supposed to lead fishermen to the best fishing spots along ponds and rivers. And that one is a Tufted Antthrush. They eat ants mostly and-oh, wait, what was that one?!" she pointed excitedly at a new white and grey bird that appeared in a nearby tree.

Regulus couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm as she glanced out at the forest all around her, taking in as much as she could.

"What is this place? Why haven't I heard of this before?"

Regulus shrugged. "Maybe it was closed down in your time. It's a nature and wildlife preserve of sorts. A lot of magical creatures are endangered because of expanding human activity and there are places like this that offer them a safe place to be. And it's educational as well. Families and day schools can take their kids out and teach them about the importance of land stewardship and care for magical creatures."

"You've been here before?" she asked, surprised. It was hard to imagine him as a small child on an outing with his parents.

"Oh yes. Aunt Cass took Sirius and I loads of times. I'm pretty sure he taught the toucan back there a few of those good swears he knows," Regulus joked.

"Are they really endangered?"

He sighed. "Most, I'd imagine. Magical creatures like the one you compared to a giraffe are very rare to begin with. Given the history of human development, poaching, deforestation, changing climate, and a number of other factors these creatures are dying out. It's hard to hide magic in the world. The world seems to want to snuff it out. So a large part of wizard culture is understanding that the burden of magical secrecy and protection doesn't just refer to wizards, but other creatures as well."

She watched his face as he spoke, gazing up at the flying birds far above.

"We have a responsibility to protect them. And ourselves."

"Do wizards really need protecting, though?"

"Of course. We're still human. Still vulnerable."

"But we have magic."

He turned to her, his face serious. "Magic is not all powerful. Muggles can kill us just as easily as we can kill them."

She thought for a moment about some of the weapons muggle humans had invented in the past century to wipe out entire cities.

"A muggle man slit my great-aunt Hesper's throat one night while she slept. My great-great-great uncle was killed by a musket ball. There's a reason my family takes its protections and secrecy so seriously."

"But muggles can't protect themselves against magic. We can protect ourselves against their weapons, for the most part."

"I'm not saying muggles are the enemy, Hermione. I'm just pointing out that magic isn't a guarantee of safety. We've been losing power for centuries, and it's harder for old families with long memories to forget that they once occupied throne rooms and advised great leaders in historic moments in time. And now we're forced to hide our magic. Hide our gifts from a world that would rather pretend we don't exist. Until we're left with nothing but tiny pockets of sanctuary. Just like these birds." His eyes never left the lazily drifting wings hovering in the sky above. "There's an entire world out there that I have to hide myself from."

She thought about what he had said, biting back a retort when she saw the expression on his face. Regulus had lived a very different life compared to her. He had grown up in the wizarding world and been restricted by it.

"I think that soon, quite soon, wizarding culture, the culture that I was raised in, will disappear completely."

"You know I don't agree with pureblood supremacy-"

"That isn't what I'm talking about. I don't think wizards are better than muggles. And I don't believe that blood purity makes someone a more powerful witch or wizard. I mean look at you. Outstanding in every subject." He smiled at her briefly before turning back to the sky. "No. What I mean is, the magical world is shrinking. Our culture is dying. And you may think it's antiquated, and in many respects it is, but it's also our history and our traditions. Magical families dwindling. Rapidly declining magical births. Magical creatures forced to live in captivity. We've lost more magic to time than we've gained. Old spells have been lost and forgotten."

Hermione was reminded of the book on druid rituals she had found in Hogwarts. Tucked away, out of sight. Forgotten. No longer considered important or worth studying.

"I wonder how long it will be before magic too is forgotten completely." He twisted his wand in his hand and sighed slowly, releasing his breath as if it carried a heavy weight with it. "It's hard to feel proud about your heritage when the rest of the world tells you to hide it. I don't want to hide from the world. I just want to be myself."

He shut his eyes and Hermione said nothing as she watched him sorrowfully. She had a feeling he had wanted to say these words to someone for a long time. Wanted someone to hear him. With a sharp pang in her chest she was reminded of Harry, who was forced to live in a cupboard under the stairs for eleven years. Harry who had his entire world hidden from him, the entire truth kept secret and used as a justification to be cruel to him.

She remembered when she found out that the things she could do were magic. How happy she had been. How excited she was to learn about this new world. But also relief. Relief that she was not alone. That she was not a freak or mad. That she was special and gifted and had an amazing talent. She had learned the spells and potions and all about the world, but not much about the culture except for what life was like in the castle or in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley. But if that was her whole world, those few places where she could be herself, it must have been agonizing. Especially to live under such restrictive parents who kept their pureblood son locked up, confined.

She turned around and leaned against the railing so that she faced him. "You can always be yourself with me, Regulus. Always. And I may not know much about wizarding culture as you might, but I do know this: you do deserve to take pride in yourself. I'm proud of you."

He smiled and then looked away, swallowing hard.

"And after this I'm going to take you somewhere."

"You're not going to murder me, are you?" he joked, making her roll her eyes at him.

"We'll see."

They continued on to different environments. Hermione personally was not a fan of the high desert environment which made her skin feel dry and cracked, but she loved watching the Thunderbird glisten like a fiery golden shooting star across the sky.

It was here that Regulus found a golden feather from the magnificent creature and tucked it into the bun at the back of her head. "They're supposed to bring good luck," he said nonchalantly as he did so. "And it's your birthday. You deserve some extra luck."

Besides the sounds of twittering birds and the piercing cry of raptors, they were completely alone to wander and talk amongst themselves.

Hermione told him about her parents and how she had snuck out to see them two weeks ago and found the two of them curled up on the couch together in the living room of her childhood home. She had been content to leave them alone and although she missed her own parents, she respected the fact that she had to give this version of them space to raise their baby girl in peace.

Regulus told her more about other magical sanctuaries he had visited, including one for dragons. This led to a long conversation about Hagrid's obsession with dragons and how she had helped Harry take Norbert to Charlie Weasley and his friends. He had laughed when she told him Norbert had actually been a female dragon.

And she told him about the Triwizard Tournament and how terrifying it was to watch Harry and the others face off against the dragons. Regulus went into a long rant about how cruel and inhumane it was to use dragons, especially brooding mothers, as a dangerous form of entertainment.

As they rounded a corner Hermione stopped and sat at a small, secluded bench tucked away off the path. Hermione plucked a tiny, spotted, brilliant red feather off the wood before she sat, brushing it nervously with her fingertips as she struggled to find the right words. "Regulus, can I ask you something?"

He sat on the bench next to her, brushing aside some leaves. "Of course."

"It's about...about what you said back there. About losing your culture and watching the magical world shrink over time. Is that... Is that why you joined the Death Eaters?"

"No," he said darkly. "No, that wasn't what I was saying at all. What I meant was, I don't want to live my whole life in a cage."

She understood as she watched him staring up at the sky. Even a preserve like this sanctuary was still a cage. He hadn't been talking about some pureblood agenda or a Death Eater's rallying cry. He was telling her he felt trapped.

"You don't have to live in a cage, Regulus. You can leave. You can go anywhere. You can be anything you want to be."

He shook his head slowly, watching the bright white birds up in the sky float in lazy circles. "No, Hermione, I can't. I'm a marked Death Eater. I'm the only male heir who hasn't been disowned in my family. There's pressure and expectations that I can't run from. No matter how much I may want to." He let out a painfully slow sigh as his eyes watched the bird above, enjoying their freedom in flight.

Hermione watched it too, saddened by her friend's burden and the weight he was forced to carry with him. "You don't have to be the person they want you to be."

He tried to smile, but all he could manage was a grimace. "If only it were that simple."

Worrying her lip, she rolled the feather slowly between her fingertips. She turned to him and slid closer, placing the small feather in the buttonhole of his lapel. "Maybe someday it will be."

And as her warm brown eyes looked into his he had the urge to kiss her kind, encouraging smile. To taste the hope and promise of another life on her lips. To lose himself just for a moment in that peaceful dream. But he couldn't.

The moment passed and he stood, suggesting that they continue walking. They moved into a large wetland marsh filled with all manner of interesting birds: egrets, cranes, swallows, finches, sparrows, cormorants, blackbirds, and an assortment of ducks and geese.

"Do you still fly much now that you're no longer in school?" she asked as their feet marched along the coarse pebbled path.

"No. Not really much at all. It's hard to steal away the time with my schedule."

Hermione felt immense guilt well up inside her: she knew he was working longer hours at the ministry now and with their dueling lessons and everything else, he must be exhausted and pressed for time.

"I miss it a lot. I love flying. And I was pretty good too. Still am, of course," he added. "I even had recruiters offer me contracts with a few professional teams."

Hermione tore her eyes away from a tall Snowy Dawn Egret with glistening feathers that was prowling along the shallow muddy banks. "What?! That's amazing! Why didn't you accept any of them?"

He raised his eyebrows at her, amused. "I couldn't by then," he admitted, glancing down at his wrist where the Dark Mark lay beneath his jacket and shirt.

Hermione swallowed and looked back at the egret just in time to see it scoop up a tiny wriggling fish. "I'd like to see you fly some time."

"Just so long as you get to watch safely from the ground, I'm guessing?"

She made a face at him. "Flying can be dangerous. Especially when trying to get past a dragon." Hermione clutched her stomach tightly at the memory of Harry going up against the Hungarian Horntail. She told Regulus how awful it had been to watch Harry and how even Ron, who had been angry with him ever since his name came out of the Goblet of Fire, had realized that he would never have put his name in willingly. And she told him about Barty Crouch Jr. who had disguised himself as Alastor Moody for nearly a whole year, helping Voldemort so he could get his body back. She circled back to Harry's challenge with finding a way to best the dragon and how insufferable Ron had been when she had tried to reason with him over their feud in an effort to repair their friendship. In turn this tumbled into a great deal of venting about Ron being a huge jerk that year, especially at the Yule Ball when he found out someone named "Viktor" had asked her instead.

"Who was Viktor? Why did Ron dislike him so much?" Regulus asked.

"He was the Durmstrang champion. And that's the thing, Ron didn't dislike him at all! He practically worshiped him at the Quidditch World Cup. Viktor played seeker for Bulgaria. Ireland won, but he caught the snitch. I mean, you should have heard Harry and Ron gushing over the Wonksy Feint-"

"-Wronski Feint-"

"-that Viktor pulled off during the match. Ron even had a miniature figurine version of Krum, not any of the Irish players mind you, like Troy or Lynch. And then he kept acting like-"

"Wait a minute. Did you say Krum?"

Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot as she realized he was putting it together.

"So your friend Ron didn't like the Triwizard champion and world famous seeker asking you to the Yule Ball? Ahh. It's all beginning to make sense now. Miss Krum."

Hermione blushed. "It's not like that!" she insisted. "We weren't very serious or anything. And he's the only foreign wizard I sort of knew well enough to give a convincing background story."

"How long were you two together?" He didn't ask it in a prying or mean-spirited way. His tone was soft and curious.

"Well, it was a bit sporadic during the rest of the school year. As much as I liked Viktor, every time I mentioned him Ron would start being a jerk about it and Harry wouldn't say anything at all! So I distanced myself from Viktor and focused on helping Harry prepare for the other tasks as much as I could."

Regulus couldn't help but think they didn't sound like very good friends to Hermione. He mentioned this to her and she didn't say anything for a minute as they crunched over the gravel path.

"I think Ron was just jealous." And then she told him about how she and Harry and Ron had become friends during her first year after they saved her from a mountain troll. She told him about Ron, how jealous he had been when Viktor had turned up at Bill and Fleur's wedding, but also how protective he had been when they were pursued by Death Eaters. Throwing himself over her to protect her from the Death Eater's spells. How things seemed to change between them after they reconciled during the end of their sixth year.

She told him about Lavender Brown and how Ron had not ended things well between the two of them, which caused a series of problems for her while she roomed with Lavender. She told him about how cruel she had been to Hermione, blaming her for the end of her relationship with Ron. Lavender had purposefully spilled ink on her assignments and books, said nasty things about her to Parvati, and put sand in her bed.

"I never told Ron or Harry about it. I felt like I deserved to be punished. He said my name in his sleep in the hospital wing after he was accidentally poisoned and Lavender heard. It's what set the whole thing off."

"But you didn't deserve it. It wasn't your fault at all," he said indignantly.

Hermione shrugged. "I still felt awful. He was still my friend and we hung out all the time. She couldn't take it out on him, so she took it out on me instead."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing, for a while. I asked my parents what to do and they told me to ignore her. And then after she put sand in my bed I asked Ginny for advice and she suggested I curse her."

"Did you?"

"No. But I threatened to if she kept at it. Thankfully, she remembered that I was the one who cursed Marietta Edgecomb and gave her permanent boils that read 'sneak' across her face and she stopped after that."

This received another raised eyebrow and Hermione told him all about Umbridge and the D.A. and how they were eventually caught and held captive until Hermione managed to trick Umbridge into the forest where they ran into Grawp and the centaurs. But then she stopped. She didn't want to mention the Department of Mysteries or Sirius, knowing it would upset him.

Regulus couldn't help the small, private, smug grin on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing much. I'm just starting to feel a lot better about our chances if you can form a secret army, trap your enemies, save your friends from dragons and Death Eaters and giant murderous snakes and much worse on more than one occasion."

"I had help," she said bashfully.

"No. You're a one woman army."

"I'm sure you've had exciting adventures of your own."

"None that involved so many near-death experiences."

"So you had a perfectly boring school life?"

"I wouldn't say it was boring by any means."

"Did you ever get into trouble?"

He straightened up, puffing out his chest as if she had insulted him. "Nonsense. I was a perfect student."

Hermione smirked and raised a dubious eyebrow.

"Well, I was a lot better than Sirius."

She laughed. "That's probably not setting the bar very high."

"No," he chuckled.

"Tell me about your experiences at Hogwarts. I hardly know anything about your time there."

"I'm afraid it's going to sound awfully dull in comparison to yours."

"I highly doubt that. There hasn't been a dull moment since I met you." She made a pleading face at him and he relented with a grin.

"Let's see. During my very first quidditch match I was hit by a bludger from Marius Crawford on the Ravenclaw team and woke up in the hospital wing. I was a second year and Sirius was there, along with James, Remus, and Peter. My brother stood up and did a long slow clap as I came to and professed: 'Here he is, ladies and gentlemen, the epitome of good pureblood breeding and nobility, knocked out by a bludger in his very first game-Regulus Arcturus of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.' It was a rough start for my quidditch career."

"Harry got hit by a cursed bludger his second year. He broke his arm and then after our professor accidentally removed the bones instead of fixing them he had to have them regrown. Quidditch is brutal. Were you badly injured?"

"Not badly. My pride was pretty wounded though."

"I'm glad to see you've made a full recovery."

He rolled his eyes at her, but couldn't shake the grin tugging at his cheek.

"Did you ever get in any trouble?"

"Not nearly as much as Sirius. I did do a month of detentions after I cursed Thomas Shrewsbury from Hufflepuff."

"What happened?"

"He made some rather rude comments about my family, calling us insane inbred dogs. I don't remember much of the fight, but I put him in the hospital wing for a week. But no one made fun of me or my family after that. Not to my face anyway."

"Merlin. What year were you?"

"Third. Shrewsbury was in fifth. Sirius gave him a good hex too when he got out of the hospital wing, so we ended up doing detention together for a week."

"Were your parents upset about it when they heard?"

"Upset? No. They were proud. Told us we had done a good job defending our family's honor."

"My parents would have been furious with me."

"I think our parents are very different people."

There was a pause as Regulus pointed to a red-headed woodpecker clinging to the side of an old dead tree. The wood dust that fell from the hole it was drilling sparkled in the sunlight. "Lommen's Woodpecker. The wood dust turns to gold. They're an omen of fair fortune." Hermione watched the sparkling dust blow away in the wind.

Biting her lip, she chewed on her thoughts until Regulus started walking again. "Regulus...can I ask what happened between you and Sirius? It seems like the two of you were on good terms, but things didn't stay that way. What happened?"

Regulus was silent as they crunched along the path. "I wouldn't say we were best friends at school when I first got there. We fought like siblings do. But he had my back during my younger years. And I had his. Oh yes, I wasn't the perfect son my parents thought I was. I was just as bad as Sirius was about getting into fights with students, but I didn't get caught bullying others like he did. People learned pretty quickly not to say anything bad about Sirius around me. And people who tried to curse him learned quickly that my house allegiance did not supersede my familial allegiances."

"But what caused you two to hate each other so much?"

His face was stony, betraying nothing. "We grew apart over the years. Went on different paths. When Sirius was disowned I couldn't speak to him and by then he didn't want to speak to me."

"Do you miss him?"

"Of course," he said softly.

"Then why do-"

"Hermione," he warned coolly. He gave her a look and she nodded, dropping her line of questioning.

"Did you have any friends at school?"

"Some. Not many close ones in my own year. I was fairly close with some of the older guys who I played quidditch with and a couple of others. Severus was one of my closer ones. He was my dueling partner in the dueling club."

"There was a dueling club at Hogwarts?"

"It was more of a secret dueling club. Actual dueling clubs were disbanded because of accidents and injuries, but the Slytherins used an old dungeon room to practice dueling. I was invited to join."

"And I take it this secret dueling club was a test of sorts?" Hermione asked cautiously, the wheels turning in her head.

"It was a means of recruiting, yes."

"How old were you when you joined?" His eyes flashed a warning and she knew she was encroaching on dangerous territory.

"The youngest Voldemort would accept was sixteen. I agreed to take the mark at fourteen."

"Fourteen?" Hermione dropped her voice to a whisper, stunned. She wanted to ask more questions, but could tell from the look in his eye that he didn't want to discuss it anymore. She switched topics.

"Did you like your classes? Cassie told me you got top marks in your NEWTs."

"I liked them for the most part. Not divination though. I loved astronomy and history of magic. Although Professor Binns is dreadfully dull. Charms was probably my best subject. It was rather difficult coming in as the younger sibling. All the teachers expected me to be just like my brother."

"What was your worst subject?"

"Transfiguration. Hated the subject. McGonagall never liked me, but I still managed to do well. I had to; it was the one class Sirius excelled in and I couldn't let him show me up."

Hermione shook her head at him and the pettiness of sibling rivalry. "What about care of magical creatures? I would have thought that would have been one of your favorites," she remarked, gesturing around at the apiary.

"Oh, it was certainly one of my favorites, but I had to stop taking it after my fifth year because of my schedule. I missed it though. Sometimes I would sneak out of the castle early in the mornings and hijack one of the hippogriffs. It's not the same as a broom, but it was such a fun way to fly."

"You hijacked a hippogriff?"

"Oh more than one. They liked me quite a lot. And Professor Kettleburn was fine with it. He said they needed the exercise."

"And I thought you were the responsible sibling."

He flashed a grin at her. "I was very responsible. I was made prefect and head boy."

"Really? I was a prefect too. Did you like being a prefect?"

"It had it's good parts and bad parts. I liked the respect it carried and the prefect's bathroom was really nice. But I didn't like patrolling the castle. Walked in on a few things I wish I hadn't."

Hermione cringed. "I know what you mean. I walked in on Filch and Madam Pince in a romantic embrace one time."

Regulus shivered and grimaced. "Merlin, I did not need that mental image. But I still think I had it worse. I walked in on James and Lily and neither of them were wearing shirts."

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand. "No! Really? Oh that must have been so awkward."

"James made me promise not to say a word after the fact. Lily couldn't look me in the eye for the rest of her seventh year."

"I caught two seventh year Hufflepuffs in a candlelit classroom, completely naked and... in the act."

It was Regulus's turn to cover his face. "What did you do?"

"Backed out of the room and ran for it."

Regulus laughed and then hid his face in his hands. "I still think I had it worse. I walked in on a similar situation with Renatta Agerton, a seventh year Ravenclaw, and... Sirius."

Hermione gasped in horror as Regulus turned a greenish color at the memory. "No!"

"I'm afraid so."

"Oh Merlin's beard, that's horrible! Oh, that's really awful. I would have to go to therapy for years."

"I don't think there's enough therapy in the world that can undo that damage," Regulus responded dryly.

"Oh let's change the subject. This is getting to be too much for me."

Glad to do so, Regulus asked her if she had a favorite spot in the castle. "I liked the library. If I wasn't with my friends, I was there. I liked to sit at the little table back in the history section when I was by myself. It was quiet and easy to focus, but I also had a nice view of the lake. I liked to look out at it every so often and it always seemed to calm me down when I was stressed over an essay or an assignment."

Regulus paused, touching his fingertips to a wooden post along the path. "In the history section? Which part?"

"The section with all the books on historical architecture and ancient runes."

A smile split across his face. "That was my table. Whenever I was studying, that was where I would sit. I liked the view and the quiet back there."

Hermione grinned. "Well what about you, did you have a favorite spot in the castle?"

"Sometimes, when I missed Kreacher I would sneak into the kitchens and visit the house elves. They were very nice and it was a comfort to see so many happy elves in one place. I liked talking with them and hearing their stories. House elves live for a long time and they have remarkable memories. Two of them knew Kreacher and would tell me stories about him. It was a small comfort, but it meant a lot to me."

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat at the thought of Regulus talking with the house elves at Hogwarts, who missed Kreacher when he was homesick. A pain of sorrow went through her though. When he had been homesick, it had not been his parents he had missed, but Kreacher. A house elf.

"The house elves never liked me much, I'm afraid. I tried to leave clothes out for them to find in Gryffindor tower. Only Dobby ever picked them up."

"Oh Hermione, you didn't."

"What?" she frowned.

"House elves take a great deal of pride in their work. Leaving clothes out and trying to trick them is...well, insulting."

"But they shouldn't be slaves to Hogwarts!"

"They're not slaves at Hogwarts. The house elves there are under contract. They can leave if they choose to."

"But they don't even receive wages or holidays!"

"I know, and I agree with you that in general it is very unfair for them to work so much and receive so little in return. But they're not like us. They take great pride in their service to the school. They enjoy maintaining the castle and making sure the students are well cared for. They love their work and Dumbledore is good to them."

"But wizards mistreat and even abuse their house elves!" She told him about Dobby and his face darkened.

"Not every wizard or witch is a good person. And many take advantage of their house elves. That's true. But not all. Cassiopeia and Higgy have a good relationship."

"But they all deserve to have rights and protections under the law. House elves have been easy scapegoats for the witches and wizards they serve. They deserve better." She told him about Hokey and Winky and he grew more concerned the more he heard.

He pulled out the coin she had given him and tapped it with his wand.

"What are you doing?"

"Sending a message to Dumbledore. He might be able to clear the house elf's name and help her."

She put her hand over Regulus's to stop him. "I already did that weeks ago. I'm afraid it won't be of much use. Voldemort altered her memories and made her think she did mistakenly poison Hepzibah Smith."

"But she's innocent."

"We can't prove that."

Regulus couldn't accept that. They discussed it in righteous indignation as they moved into a region with towering redwood trees and large leafy ferns and ground sorrel covering the forest floor.

"You should consider a career in magical law," Regulus suggested when they had mulled over the various arguments they might make to help Hokey and reopen the case. "You have a good mind for it. And you could work on drafting legislation to help protect the rights of magical creatures."

This made her smile, although a bit sadly as she told him about Buckbeak's trial and how all her research didn't amount to anything.

"But that's precisely why you should look into it. Clearly the laws need to be reviewed and changed."

"You know the Wizengamot better than I do, Regulus," she pointed out, as his father was a current member and he was training to follow in his footsteps. "Do you really think that they would even listen to me about the rights of house elves and hippogriffs while Voldemort is gaining control?"

Part of Regulus's regular reports to Voldemort were about the current opinions and leanings of the members, as well as any potential to pass anti-muggle and anti-muggleborn legislation. Hermione knew how turbulent everything was at the ministry. Everyone was afraid. They didn't know who was on which side and the general fear kept people secluded from one another. It was likely one of the reasons why they hadn't seen more than two other people in the apiary the whole day: people were afraid to leave their homes. A circus in France had been attacked a week ago. Several muggles and three wizarding families had been killed. Public outings were being discouraged by the ministry: it was no wonder why this place was so empty.

Regulus sighed and shrugged. "Someone has to take a stand. I still think it's worth trying." They stopped at a massive tree to admire a nest large enough to house a hippo. "Besides, I'd still bet on you any day," he added.

"We actually did manage to save Buckbeak. That's also how we saved Sirius too. He escaped on Buckbeak and went into hiding."

Regulus listened intently as she told him the details of the events and when she finished he gave her that look again: an appraising, impressed, and slightly stunned expression that always tugged his lips into a small grin. "I knew I was right to bet on you." He chuckled at her blush and added, "You seem to have a habit of saving my family from near certain death too."

"Hopefully it isn't one I have to keep up," she warned, raising an eyebrow at him.

She thought about Sirius and what she knew of him. "Regulus, when I knew Sirius he really cared for Buckbeak and he always treated him well, but he was awful to Kreacher. Hated him, really. Do you know why?"

"I can really only guess. From what you've told me, Sirius was trapped in Grimmauld Place again. I'm guessing he didn't cope with it well and took it out on Kreacher."

She nodded, sucking on her bottom lip. "You two are so different from one another. Complete opposites really."

Regulus shook his head, his smile gone. "Maybe from your perspective. But if you asked Aunt Cass, she would tell you we were practically twins growing up."

"It's hard to picture you as a kid. I've only ever known you as an adult. There weren't a lot of pictures of you and Sirius as kids around your house."

"Oh, no there wouldn't be." Hermione turned to him, surprised, only to see his face gravely serious. "We were far too adorable. Me especially. It was very distracting and we had to take them all down."

Hermione laughed and Regulus smiled. "I'm sure if you asked nicely Aunt Cass would break out the family photo albums. Although for the sake of my pride I might have to ransack them and destroy any embarrassing ones."

"I suddenly remembered that I need to ask Cassie about something urgent and unrelated to embarrassing photos of you." She started to run along the path in a fit of giggles as he ran to catch up with her.

They walked and talked for several hours as they wound through the many twists and turns of the apiary's trails. She slowed her pace considerably when they came to the last section: an oak savanna filled with tall grass and the sweet scent of blossoming flowers. Despite the hunger gnawing in the pit of her stomach, Hermione was so enjoying her time with Regulus and the beautiful sanctuary that she was loathe to see it end.

Eventually, however, they arrived at the exit and Regulus insisted that they find some place to eat dinner seeing as how they had skipped over lunch entirely. He offered her his arm and promised to take her someplace nice, but Hermione crossed her arms and shook her head, a coy grin on her face. "Oh no, Mr. Black. It's my birthday, and I'm going to choose where we have dinner."

Regulus raised his eyebrows, but accepted her outstretched hand. "Fine, but will you at least let me pay?"

"You can certainly try. Although I'm not sure you'll get very far," she said with a smirk.

And true enough, Regulus frowned at the small stand handing out paper tubs of fish and chips in muggle London. "This is where you want to celebrate your birthday dinner?" he asked skeptically as she led him over to the cart and handed the man behind it a piece of paper. He shook his head at her as she grinned mischievously at him.

"My parents and I used to stop by here. My mum liked to walk around the shops and look in all the windows. Here, try it with the lemon. My dad always liked it better with vinegar, but mum and I always drench ours in lemon juice." She squeezed three lemon wedges over her fish and chips as Regulus stared at the hot oily lumps of battered fish skeptically.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to a proper restaurant?" he asked, accepting the lemon wedges she passed to him. The man behind the stand glared at him.

Hermione elbowed him as she bit into a piece and they strolled down the street.

Glancing around to make sure nobody he knew could see him, he took a bite and was thrown by the crispy, hot flaky salty fish and the zing of lemon juice as it hit his tongue.

Hermione watched his face with a knowing smirk and shook her head at him. "What did I tell you? It's good, right?"

He nodded his head, dramatically conceding the point. "Alright, alright. It's amazing. So simple, but absolutely delicious."

"You should know by now, Regulus, I'm very rarely wrong about these things," she teased. "And after this we should get ice cream."

And they did. They walked around muggle London streets as Hermione pointed out her favorite places and pulled him into more than one bookstore. He kept an eye out as she discreetly put her eight new books into her beaded bag. "Can you lend me some muggle money? I want to get this one," he said, holding up a book on astrophysics.

Hermione seemed surprised, but remembered how interested Mr. Weasley had been about planes and handed him some bills after checking the price on the back cover.

They talked more as they wandered up and down the streets, but as Hermione tried to ask him about his childhood and any subject relating to Sirius he became withdrawn or remained quiet and eventually she caught on and stopped asking.

He asked her about her books and they discussed some of their favorites with each other for a while as the dark settled in around them. The street lights came on and the night life began to thin out the crowds.

They sat at a bench in a park when their feet grew weary and Hermione could no longer ignore the blisters on her heels. She took off her shoes and tucked her feet underneath her, curling into the curve of the bench as Regulus told her an interesting case he had read recently regarding 17th century laws about the property rights of merfolk along overseas trade routes. "Did you know that merfolk can live in freshwater or saltwater environments? It's very fascinating. And their communities tend to be matriarchal. There's even a small tribe in the Black Lake at Hogwarts."

Hermione bit her lip and smiled at him. "Oh, I am quite aware of that. I was actually held hostage in their village-but not really-" she said quickly, at the look of concern that cropped up on Regulus's face. "It was a part of the Triwizard Tournament. It was all perfectly safe." Then she told him about the riddle and trying to help Harry solve it up until the final hour. And how she had been teased mercilessly by the other girls at school for being the thing that Viktor Krum would miss most according to the dumb riddle.

"I don't even remember the part underwater, which is such a shame. It would have been really interesting to see what their village looked like and how they lived. I mean, they've lived there for hundreds of years according to Hogwarts: A History, and Harry said that there were carvings of the merpeople fighting the giant squid!" Regulus's eyes narrowed and she stopped. "What is it?"

"Dumbledore just told you a few hours ahead of time that he wanted to keep you and three other people in a state of suspended animation at the bottom of a lake and then he just did it?"

"Well, he asked us for our permission."

"You weren't even of age. Did he ask your parents if he could put their daughter at the bottom of a lake? What if the spell hadn't worked? What if you had drowned?" he asked, outraged.

"Regulus...I was alright. We all were." She recalled the panicked terror on Fleur's face as she had fought against the people holding her back to try and get into the lake after her little sister. Harry too had been afraid of what would happen to the hostages and she had made him feel foolish for his concern. Biting her lip guiltily, she mumbled something about it being irresponsible to not tell the champions the truth and that perhaps some permission forms should have been sent to their parents beforehand.

Regulus seemed placated by this, but furrowed his eyebrows in worry still.

"Have you read Hogwarts: A History?" she asked tentatively, hoping to lift his mood and discuss something else.

"Of course. We have a copy in the library at home. I read it cover to cover with Sirius when he got his letter. And again when I got mine. And then maybe four or five more times over the summers."

Hermione couldn't help but smile. "It's probably my favorite. It was the first book I read when I got my school things. My parents read through it too. They wanted to know more about where I would be learning and what the environment was like."

"The book does sort of leave out the part where it's a living death trap for their daughter," he said wryly and Hermione gave him a look.

"You're not wrong, but I wouldn't have given it up for the world. I loved that school. I loved my friends there. I loved learning about magic. Hogwarts was my home." A wistful expression clouded her face as she stared out across the park.

Regulus understood. It had been his home too. His sanctuary away from his house and his family. In many ways he missed his days at Hogwarts and a part of him wished that he could go back. Do it all over again. He wished he had known then what he knew now.

The buzzing light overhead flicked and brought him out of his trance and he looked up at the inky black night sky. "It's getting late. I should take you back before my aunt starts to worry."

Hermione blinked and looked at him. "Wait. There's just one more thing I want to do before we go back." She tipped her toes back into her shoes and stood up, offering him her hand again.

* * *

They stood in an alley next to a dumpster. "You're not going to murder me here, I hope?" Regulus asked nervously, glancing around.

Hermione tugged at his arm and pulled him around to the main street where they approached a locked door by a glass ticket booth. Brightly colored muggle posters filled giant frames on either side of them.

"Hermione, what you doing?"

"My key doesn't work. I'm going to have to use my wand. Can you cover me?"

Regulus eyed the desolate street as she tapped the doors and they opened. Cautiously, Regulus followed behind her, slipping in through the door and closing it quickly so that they wouldn't be noticed. "Are we allowed to be here? Aren't we breaking and entering?" he whispered frantically to her.

Hermione felt along the wall for the light switch blindly.

"Regulus, where's your sense of adventure?" she teased, giggling. She found the switch and the lights went on. More muggle posters lined the walls and neon lights flashed around the concessions stand. The whole building had a peculiar, but pleasant smell to it. Regulus looked at the bizarrely patterned blue carpet and the ghostly quiet of the wide empty building.

"Back outside where I am legally allowed to be. I don't fancy being thrown in muggle prison."

She tugged his arm, pulling him away from the door. "Relax, Regulus. This is my uncle's theater. He owns it and I do have a key and permission to be here, technically."

"Not in this year, you don't."

Hermione waved her hand and flicked her wand at the door behind them, locking it back up. "It's fine. He used to let me come over and watch free movies with my parents. It's fine, really." She felt a bit funny being the one to encourage a little rebellion for once instead of being the voice of reason. Pointing her wand at the various machines behind the counter, she hopped up and slid over the candy counter to grab a large bucket of popcorn and two sodas.

Regulus stood there uncomfortable, looking around the theater warily.

"I used to come here with my parents when I was little. It was the one time when I could stay up late. Come on," she said, handing him the two drinks and the giant bucket of buttered popcorn.

Regulus inhaled the delicious scent as Hermione hopped back over and gestured, twirling around the big open space.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked brightly.

"It's like a more tasteful version of Sirius's room."

She gaped and put her hands on her hips. "It is not!"

"There's an awful lot of red and gold," he teased, glancing pointedly around the room.

She rolled her eyes and tugged his sleeve, pulling him up the stairs behind a velvet rope that she magicked aside with a flick of her wand. She opened the door to a small room surrounded in wood paneling and more posters. Some of them hung on the walls, but there were also stacks against a table in the back.

Hermione left him to search through several large crates full of circular metal containers. Thumbing through them with an eager smile on her face, she occasionally glanced back at Regulus, looked from him to the large canister in her hands and then shook her head, returning to search the crate.

He came up to stand behind her to read the handwritten scrawl on pieces of tape. She paused on one which read 'Rocky' and then decided against, shaking her head, and flicking through until she pulled out another crate and slid one out, excited. She hid it against her chest and opened the canister, pulling out the film and with another wave of her wand it wound itself perfectly into the projector.

Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him back out of the room, down the stairs, and into a dark theater facing a large blank screen. She tugged him to the exact middle of the theater and they sat down in red velvet chairs. Regulus looked at her nervously as she raised her wand and the projector in the upstairs room clicked on. Hermione put the drinks in cup holders attached to the arms of the seats and offered to hold the popcorn.

He felt Hermione's eyes darting over to watch his reaction as he focused on the screen in front of him. The words "Star Wars" appeared at the same time as a loud orchestral cacophony erupted around them, startling Regulus so much that he jumped in the seat, gripping the armrests with whiteknuckled intensity as words rolled up the screen before him and he leaned forward to read the opening crawl before it disappeared. Hermione suppressed a laugh at his reaction. A light appeared on the screen and the Regulus read the words without understanding them as loud, trumpeting music played. Then a black screen appeared with the words, "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…" She covered his hand with hers and offered him some of the popcorn.

"Did muggles actually film this in space?" he asked, bewildered.

"No, it's movie magic. They use camera tricks."

He raised an eyebrow at her and she nodded at the screen, mouthing "I'll explain later" to him as she too turned her attention to watch the movie. As the scenes she knew well began to play she would glance over at Regulus to see his reactions.

He watched with a focused intensity, absorbing every little detail he could. When Darth Vader came out in his black cloak and terrifying mask Regulus's eyes widened and he leaned over to Hermione again. "Is he a Death Eater?"

She shook her head and pointed him back at the screen. "Watch. You'll see."

The rest of the movie continued and after several long minutes Regulus relaxed and stuck his hand in the popcorn bucket, and finally leaned his back against the seat. He asked more questions that made Hermione giggle, like, "How is the wizard doing magic without a wand?" and "Are the machines shooting spells?" Hermione had to control her giggles as he watched, enthralled. "Did that spell just destroy an entire planet?!"

When the movie ended and the credits began to role he leaned over. "Is that it? Is it over?"

"I'm afraid so," she told him.

He looked around the empty theater and asked, "Are we supposed to clap now?"

Hermione shook her head. With a wave of her wand the projector turned off. "So? What did you think?" she asked, unable to wipe the smile off her face.

"It was brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I have so many questions though." Hermione sat forward and they talked about the movie for a while.

Regulus seemed convinced that some actual magic had to have been used to film several of the scenes, and he seemed unconvinced when Hermione told him the spaceships were not real and not magic and not actually as large as they appeared in the film. She liked the idea of it though, and this was really her first experience taking a wizard to go see a muggle film, and she found all his thoughts and theories about the film from a magical perspective very interesting.

He asked her several more questions about the laser effects in the movie as they exited the theater, locking it back up once everything inside was back in its place.

"Can you buy those lightsabers in muggle shops? We should go back out when they open tomorrow."

His face fell when she told him that the lightsabers were another 'movie magic' effect and not a real item he could purchase. It took him a moment to recover from the disappointment. When he did, he seemed just as excited to talk about the space battles and the daring rescue of the princess.

When he noticed her smile he asked, "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm just glad that you liked the movie. I wasn't sure which one I should pick. Some of my personal favorites aren't even going to be made for several years."

"Well you have great taste. I really liked that one." She smiled mischievously at him. "There's going to be a new one in this series in a couple years. And it's even better than the first."

Regulus groaned. "I don't want to wait years! Hermione, tell me what happens."

"No," Hermione laughed.

"Please?" he begged.

Hermione pressed her lips shut and shrugged.

His shoulders sagged and he shook his head at her, pursing his lips in frustration. "Fine. Keep your secrets. But the popcorn is mine." He threw a piece up in the air and caught it in his mouth.

She made a grab for the bucket as he did so, but he sidestepped her easily and held it out of reach.

"You're going to have to do better than that, Hermione."

She lunged again, biting her lip determinedly.

Once again he sidestepped out of her reach, smiling, pelting her with popcorn. She ducked and then spun as he stepped away and was able to grab a handful herself, which she promptly threw at him.

"Oh, you'll pay for that one."

He threw a handful at her, landing several pieces in her curls. Laughing, she brushed them away and he stepped over to get a piece that she missed. His finger lingered against her curl for a moment before he stepped back and offered her his hand. "Truce?"

"Truce," she agreed, shaking his hand and turning to walk beside him down the street. He tossed another piece into the air and caught it in his mouth.

"Can you teach me how to do that?"

"What? This?" He threw another piece up and caught it. "Sure. Here," he offered the bucket to her.

"Just toss it up like this and tilt your head back." Hermione tried and got it stuck in her curls again.

Regulus laughed.

Hermione tried again and hit her cheek and Regulus couldn't hide his laugh, making her scowl at him, although she was still smiling too. "Don't make fun of me. It's hard!"

"It's not hard! Watch." He demonstrated again.

Hermione tried again and hit her nose and Regulus chuckled again. "Wow, Hermione, your lack of hand to eye coordination is truly impressive."

She tried again and missed completely, cracking up herself.

"Okay. Just stop now, you're embarrassing yourself. Here, I'll throw it and you try and catch it, okay?"

She nodded and stood a few paces away. "You've got to stop laughing. You're making me laugh and it's hard to concentrate," Regulus said, trying to keep his composure and failing miserably. It took at least seven attempts, most of which ended in peals of laughter, before Hermione finally caught one, raising her arms in triumph.

Regulus threw the empty bucket away a few minutes later when they ran out, still unable to fight the grin on his face. "It's a good thing you caught that last one, we were almost out."

"Well I would have caught one sooner if you threw it better."

"Hermione, I am a skilled quidditch seeker. I have very good hand eye coordination. You're just very bad at catching."

Hermione shrugged, conceding the point as she laughed, her cheeks sore from smiling so much.

They walked along for a few minutes more, both of them glancing at the other and cracking a smile as they tried to contain their residual laughter. Neither one of them seemed to want the night to be over, even though it was well into the next morning and the streets were quiet. With a sigh Regulus stopped, hands in his pockets.

Hermione bit her lip; she knew the night was coming to a close, even though she didn't want it to end. He extended his arm and she hesitated, taking a step closer to him, but keeping her hand on her bag.

"Before you take me back, Regulus, I just wanted to say thank you for today. It means the world to me." She looked into his eyes, hoping that he could see how much she truly meant it. She wanted him to know, needed him to know, that his kindness and his friendship meant so much to her. That even if he didn't want to see good in himself, she saw the good in him. She saw him. Past the mask. Past the brand on his arm. Past his family and his pureblood status. She saw him.

Regulus read her face as her eyes searched his desperately, trying to convey her sincerity to him. He felt something...a stirring sensation in his heart. Hope. That maybe he could be a good man. That maybe it didn't matter how the rest of the world saw him. Or how his family saw him. Or even how he saw himself. Because it was enough to have someone believe in him. Someone who believed he was worthy of love and goodness.

His eyes swept over her face as he stepped closer to her, resting on her lips. He was inches away from her, heart hammering in his chest as he bent his head down, closing the distance between them as her eyes fluttered shut and she raised herself up on her toes, when it happened.

Pain. Blinding, fiery pain coursed through him, forcing him to fall to his knees, clutching his arm.

Hermione opened her eyes in horror, sinking to her knees as he clutched at his wrist. "Regulus, what's wrong? Regulus, tell me what's wrong!"

He wrenched himself from her grasp, hissing in pain. "He's calling. And he's angry. Very angry. I have to go. Will you-"

"I'll be fine," she reassured him, nodding her head quickly.

He turned on his heel and vanished.

Hermione clenched her fists nervously at her sides. "Please be safe," she prayed, before she too vanished from the empty street.


	21. Chapter 21: The Meaning Behind the Mask

**Chapter 21: The Meaning Behind the Mask**

Regulus was one of the last to arrive. It had taken tremendous effort to resist the pull of the call. Voldemort was furious, seething with rage. An unnatural stillness permeated the room. Regulus took his seat as the last three other Death Eaters took theirs. Four seats remained empty.

Voldemort looked at each and every one of them, seething with barely controlled rage. "Fallon!"

The man across from Regulus turned his head sharply.

"You were the one who provided the information about the prophecy. You told me that you had a contact in the Ministry who would allow my Death Eaters to infiltrate the Department of Mysteries unimpeded. Simple. That was what you said. And now, because of your mistake two of my most loyal Death Eaters are in Azkaban and two more are _dead_! Because you led them into a trap!" His cold, harsh, cutting voice sliced through the room. No one dared breathe.

Fallon trembled, spluttering. "P-Please, my lord. I did not know-"

"Silence." With a slash of his wand, Voldemort cut out his voice from his throat. His red eyes flared dangerously. "You have failed me, Fallon. You have failed your fellow Death Eaters."

The tension in the room was palpable: hatred came in waves from the younger Lestranges, Dolohov, Rosier, and Avery: it was their fathers who had been tasked with this most important mission.

"My oldest, most trusted, most devoted followers, Fallon. Dead or imprisoned. For this crime, you will pay dearly."

The man opened and closed his mouth, trying to speak, to plead his case, but there was no bargaining with the Dark Lord once someone had failed him.

Voldemort pointed his wand straight at Fallon, who was thrown into the air and then slammed down on the table in the center of the room. Many people flinched or averted their eyes. Regulus was not one of them.

Bellatrix leaned in with excited anticipation.

Fallon gaped like a fish, choking, gasping for air, but no sound came out. Regulus knew what was going to happen before it did.

"Crucio!"

The man on the table thrashed about, banging his head and limbs on the table as the convulsions took over. His lips parted in a scream that no one could hear. There was something about the inhuman nature of it, the soundless screaming; it was almost comical. Bellatrix's cackling laughter rang in Regulus's ears as Voldemort lowered his wand some time later. "Rosier," he prompted.

Evan Rosier did not hesitate for an instant. Once again the man thrashed and twitched and smacked against the table before he curled in on himself.

Rodolphus Lestrange joined next and then his brother, Rabastan, did too. Fallon's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he began to foam at the mouth. The gleam in Bellatrix's eye flashed brightly as her spell joined theirs as well: she never did miss an opportunity to join in on the fun. Dolohov did not use the cruciatus curse like the rest. That was not his style. Dolohov raised his wand and a long tongue of purple fire curled from the end of it like a whip. The sound of it cutting through the air was not nearly as terrifying as the wild silence coming from Fallon as the coils of flame snaked around him, burning and squeezing. The man clawed helplessly at his neck, leaving bloody scratches as his nails cut into skin. By the time Avery joined in the fray the man was already foaming at the mouth, his body seizing so wildly he bloodied the back of his head as he bashed it repeatedly into the table.

Voldemort raised his hand and all of them lowered their wands and Fallon twitched on the table, his eyes bloody and bulging, the smell of burned skin and hair lingering in the air. Voldemort looked from Fallon to the rest of his Death Eaters, taking them in one by one, pausing on Avery, Rosier and the Lestrange brothers slightly longer than the others. "For his betrayal this man deserves death. It was not only me he betrayed, but you as well. To whom shall I bestow the honor?" Voldemort hissed.

Bellatrix and Dolohov leaned forward eagerly. Regulus felt Voldemort's eyes linger on his face and he looked away from the twitching body. He met Voldemort's gaze unflinchingly. A smile curled from Voldemort's thin lips like a fish hook was tugging at them. "Black. Finish it."

He did not hesitate. Pointing his wand at the gasping, twitching man before him, he said the words. There was a flash of green and the man was still. He stowed his wand and turned back to Voldemort, his face expressionless.

The Dark Lord smiled at him. "Good. Now that you have killed for me, you have earned the right, I think, to wear the mask." Voldemort waved his wand and dripping liquid metal poured from the end, shaping itself into a silver metal skull-like face etched in black with scorch mark-like symbols. The mask floated over to Regulus who took it in his hands. A collective silence followed as all eyes watched him raise it to his face, pressing it against his skin as it conformed to fit him perfectly.

"Go now. All of you. Consider this a reminder about the price of failure. Be gone."

* * *

Regulus apparated back to his room in 12 Grimmauld Place. He did not turn on the lights. Throwing up a silencing charm, he turned to face the mirror in the corner of the room. Raising his wand, he illuminated the tip and raised it to look at himself. Hollow eyes peered at him through the reflection of the mask. Removing the mask, he looked into the mirror once more, but no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't remove the face of a murderer.

Curling his fingers around the edge of the mask he smashed it as hard as he could into the mirror, hitting it over and over until he had shards of broken glass in his hands and covering the floor. The mask fell with an unnatural heaviness where it lay still, staring up at him. Blood from his hands dripped onto its perfect, unmarred surface.

Falling to his knees, Regulus pressed his hands and forehead against the wall, staining the green wallpaper crimson. It had been easy. So easy. Not a second's hesitation. He tried to tell himself that it was an act of kindness: a mercy to end the man's suffering. But it wasn't, because he had been complicit in the torture. He had watched the man as others tortured him cruelly and had done nothing to stop it. He was just as guilty as everyone else in that room for letting it happen. And now he had killed on Voldemort's orders. Now he was really one of them: a masked Death Eater. Soon he would be sent out on raids to kill and torture in the name of the Dark Lord. There was no atoning for his sins now. His descent into pure evil would soon be complete.

With a sinking sensation like he was being dragged beneath the black water and the horde of inferi, he realized that there was no coming back from this. He had killed someone. Killed. He looked at his bloody hands dripping blood down the wall and onto the floor. How much blood would he have on his hands before this was over? Burying his face in his bloody fingers he let the tears he had been holding back surge forth, flooding down his cheeks at the same time a feral, horrific scream ripped from his throat. His white shirt sleeves soaked in the crimson rivers flowing down his forearms.

"Master?" came a quiet voice from the corner.

Regulus pulled his face from his hands to see Kreacher peering from behind the dresser. He stepped forward, nervously wringing his hands. Of course Kreacher had been able to pick up on the scent of blood. His magic was tied into the house and he must have detected Regulus's presence when he arrived. He wondered how long the elf had been standing there and tried not to shudder at the thought.

Kreacher's wrinkled hands stretched out towards Regulus's own. With a pair of tweezers the elf carefully extracted the bits of broken glass from his hands and then scrubbed the blood from his hands and wrists.

Regulus shrugged off his Death Eater robes and the suit he had worn for Hermione's birthday. He had worn his favorite shirt and Kreacher had helped him press and iron it properly before he went to meet Hermione.

Kreacher was gentle and did not say a word as he used a hot, warm, soapy rag to mop at Regulus's face and arms where the rust colored blood had dried and cracked. He didn't look at his master's tear-stained and bloodied face with judgement of any kind. Kreacher wiped the crusty blood from Regulus's cheek with a practiced hand, remembering all too well how he had smiled and thanked him for helping him iron his favorite shirt just that morning. But now the smile was gone and the face beneath the warm rag looked like it was no longer capable of showing joy or excitement of any kind. Master Regulus had never been a young man who smiled much, and for that reason alone Kreacher had cherished each and every smile he had ever seen Regulus wear. Now he feared he may never get to see it again.

"Thank you, Kreacher," Regulus managed in a small, raspy voice. His throat was still sore from screaming.

Kreacher nodded and pressed Regulus's hands in his, healing them and wiping away the final trickles of blood. "Master should rest," Kreacher said as he gathered up the bloody shirt and the bowl of broken glass. As Regulus rose to his feet Kreacher's eyes traveled up the length of his exposed back, scanning the tapestry of hideous, mottled scars for signs of any fresh wounds.

Regulus slid into the bed, facing the wall, and pulled the blanket up over his head to block out the light creeping in from the window.

* * *

Hermione clutched the coin in her pocket as she joined Cassiopeia in the kitchen. Regulus still hadn't responded to her message and she was very worried.

"How was your birthday adventure? Did you like the surprise?"

Hermione blinked several times, shaking herself from her worries. Cassiopeia was looking at her with a peculiar expression of concern on her face. "Oh, um, yes. Yes, it was lovely. Positively wonderful, really. The apiary was an excellent surprise. I had no idea such a place existed in London. We stayed nearly the whole day. It was really extraordinary to see so many different birds in one place. And Regulus got me a book on magical birds so I could learn about the ones we saw there."

Cassiopeia nodded her head. "Good. Although you certainly made me worry. You got home awfully late last night." There was a note of warning in her voice.

Hermione felt horribly guilty for that. She had not wanted to worry Cassiopeia. "I'm terribly sorry to have made you worry, Cassie. I was having such a nice time with Regulus that I lost track of time."

"Hermione, I may not be your parent of guardian, but I do care about you a great deal. Perhaps things are different on the continent, but here in British high society it isn't proper for a young unmarried witch to stay out with a wizard alone at night, even chaperoned."

Hermione felt her face grow hot. "It wasn't like that at all. We just went to bookstores-"

"I'm sure it wasn't. But you need to understand because it will be your reputation that is ruined if people suspect anything indecent transpired between you and a wizard."

"It wasn't like that though. Regulus is just my friend." She did her best to banish the thoughts of their almost-kiss with him, lest Cassiopeia should take notice and question her further.

"Still, it might not look that way to someone else, even if it was perfectly innocent. You won't believe the earful I got from Walburga when Regulus didn't arrive back home last night."

"What?! Is he alright?! Is he missing?!" she asked, panicked. Cassiopeia raised her brow sharply at Hermione who slowly lowered herself back into her seat; she hadn't noticed herself spring from her chair.

"To the best of my knowledge he arrived home early this morning. And I told Walburga that you arrived home much earlier."

Hermione bit her lip, nodding as she squeezed the coin in her pocket tighter. Cassiopeia leaned back in her chair, assessing Hermione with a scrutinizing gaze. "So you know then?"

Hermione swallowed and did her best to look confused. "Know what?" she asked innocently.

Cassiopeia frowned. "Don't lie, dear. You're not very good at it. You know that Regulus is a Death Eater. That's why you looked so terrified just a moment ago. I'm guessing he was called away during your evening together? I'm not surprised. Here," she said, sliding that morning's _Daily Prophet_ across the table to her. The headline read "Two Death Eaters Arrested, Two More Dead" and beneath that was an article interviewing Barty Crouch about the sting operation to catch the Death Eaters when they tried to break into the Ministry of Magic after hours.

Hermione had a sinking feeling in her stomach that she knew exactly what they had been after. Her eyes darted across the page, reading as quickly as she could.

"Nikolai Dolohov and Thomas Avery were arrested and convicted after they were caught trespassing inside the Ministry of Magic last night wearing Death Eater robes. Both men were caught and interrogated by Barty Crouch who sentenced them immediately for their crimes. The two are currently being transferred to Azkaban while the investigation into their crimes is underway. The other two Death Eaters, Richard Lestrange and Hector Rosier were killed when they resisted arrest and attacked Ministry aurors. These four men…"

But Hermione did not need to read on. Four of Voldemort's most loyal and trusted Death Eaters had been sent on a mission, and Hermione had a gut feeling she knew exactly where they had been heading when they were caught. Voldemort must have been in a rage over his loss. Hermione prayed that that was all and Regulus was still okay.

When her eyes had finished scanning the article she slid the paper back to Cassiopeia, who crossed her arms. "How long have you known?"

Hermione hesitated. "Since before we met."

"Ah…" Cassiopeia bobbed her head in understanding, although there was a note of surprise in her expression as well. "Your little party trick, I take it?"

Hermione nodded.

"And yet it doesn't bother you? He's one of Voldemort's inner circle after all."

Hermione blanched. She had never heard Cassiopeia mention Voldemort before, much less mention him by name. She had never heard anyone except for a select few Order members and Harry call him by his name; most of them winced when they heard him called 'You-Know-Who' or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' in broad daylight.

"No. No, I don't think that being a Death Eater makes a person evil or irredeemable. And I certainly don't think that of Regulus." She waited, her breath caught in her throat, watching Cassiopeia mull over her words.

"Not many would agree with you. Some would say the opposite."

"Regulus has been nothing but kind to me. I think I've met enough evil men in my life to know the difference between an evil man and a good one."

"Yes, I'm sure you have. Tell me, Hermione, where did you get your scar?"

Her hand went to the neckline of her dress. "A dark wizard used a curse on me. It was his own design and the healers couldn't find a way to heal it completely."

"Dark magic is difficult to heal from under the best of circumstances. But I was not talking about the scar across your chest. I mean the one on your wrist."

Hermione's hand instinctively covered it. She had been so careful to always wear the glamour, no matter what time of day or night. She was positive she hadn't slipped up.

"The word 'mudblood' is carved into your arm and according to the diagnostic tests I did on you when you first came in, you've been tortured with the cruciatus curse as well."

"How-?"

"Medical glasses. Specially designed for healers to examine patients. They reveal the truth beneath glamours and other kinds of magic that might be covering up signs of illness or bodily harm. A necessary tool, I'm afraid. But not one most people know about unless they've had Healer training. I've known about that word on your arm since the first night you came here."

Hermione froze. She didn't know what to do.

"Well, dear, who did it? I'd like to know."

"I can't tell you that," she murmured.

"And why not? I know you've been lying to me from the start about who you are. Do I not deserve the truth after all I have done to help you?"

The guilt coursed through Hermione like poison. "It wouldn't make sense if I explained it."

"Try me."

Hermione rubbed the coin in her hand. "It was a Death Eater who did it. Tortured me for information."

"So the story about the werewolf and the other men who attacked you?"

Hermione flinched. "I was attacked by a werewolf. But not the night I met you. The Death Eater who tortured me gave me to him afterwards. I barely escaped."

"Is that when Regulus saved you?"

Hermione shook her head, staring down at her hands. "No. No, I'm afraid that's not what happened either. I actually saved him. And he offered to help me find a place to stay. We came up with the cover story and he brought me here."

Cassiopeia's face was expressionless, but her eyes felt colder as they washed over Hermione. "I'm sorry for lying to you. I never wanted to do so. But Regulus told me it was the best way."

"And it was. He couldn't have very well brought you home with him or rented a room at the Leaky for you on retainer. That wouldn't have been proper at all."

Her blase tone about the situation stunned Hermione. She had expected Cassiopeia to be furious. "I-I'm so terribly sorry, Cassie. I really, truly am. I had nowhere to go and Regulus offered to help me. But I never meant to take advantage of your hospitality and generosity. Please forgive me. I'm so, so sorry." Her voice broke off as tears pooled in her eyes.

"Oh, it's quite alright dear. You're not the first person Regulus has brought here in dire need of my help. He's a much better liar than you are, I'll give him that, but honestly, he insults my intelligence sometimes with his attempts to deceive me."

"What do you mean by that?"

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow at her. "Has Regulus not told you why he is the heir despite being the younger son?"

Hermione shook her head slowly. "I know that Sirius ran away from home when he was a teenager and went to live with the Potters. And that his mother disowned him and burned his face off the family tapestry."

Cassiopeia pushed herself back from the table and crossed to pull down a glass and uncork a bottle of wine. Hermione blinked in surprise as she filled it up. Cassiopeia never drank wine except on rare occasions, and definitely never in the morning. "That isn't exactly all there is to it, I'm afraid. You see, my dear, the Black family has a legacy of intermarrying to keep the bloodlines pure, but it also has some rather nasty consequences. Madness of a sort runs in the family. Not quite in the form of insanity, but often in a form of ruthlessness.

"Walburga has always been power-hungry and ruthless and she still ascribes to the belief that magic is might and purebloods should rule over those lesser beings. She supports Voldemort and his ideals, which I'm sure is no great surprise to you. Naturally, she wanted her sons to take their rightful place at the top of his ranks so that they might preside over the rest of the world from positions of great power and influence once Voldemort takes control. Oh yes," she said, taking a sip of wine as she studied the astonished expression on Hermione's face. "Both her sons.

"Sixteen is the youngest Voldemort has ever accepted into his ranks. On Sirius's sixteenth birthday Walburga tried to force him to join the Death Eaters. He was always a rebellious boy, Sirius. More guts than sense. He refused and Walburga became enraged at his insolence. She attacked him, brutally. And as he lay unconscious, bleeding out on the floor she removed the Black family ring from his finger and gave it to Regulus, making him the official heir. Yes, I'm afraid Walburga would rather see her son dead at her own hand than accept his refusal. I have often wondered how mad she truly is. She demanded Regulus join the Death Eaters in his brother's stead. He agreed and when she turned to finish off Sirius he attacked her and knocked her out. He ordered Kreacher to bring them here. Sirius was very near death when he arrived on my doorstep, supported by Regulus. They were both covered in blood. But I was able to patch Sirius up and with a dozen or so blood replenishing potions I was finally able to heal him. Regulus was as pale as Sirius was, but he never left his side the whole time; not until I forced him to return with Kreacher.

"Once Sirius was stable I took him to the Potter's and warned him never to go back home again. Then I returned to Grimmauld Place and confronted Walburga. I told her that if she ever even looked at Sirius again I would have her carted off to Azkaban. Not that threats have ever been very effective against her. My niece has a way of getting what she wants, no matter the price. And so, at fourteen, Regulus agreed to become the heir and join the Death Eaters when his sixteenth birthday came around. You see, dear, you are not the first person Regulus has brought to me in desperate need of aid."

Hermione was still. Cassiopeia drained the rest of her wine.

"I didn't know," Hermione said in a barely-audible whisper.

"I doubt it is something that Regulus or anyone else would mention. But you ought to know because not many people can see a Death Eater as a person, much less a good one. And Regulus deserves to have someone who sees him as a good man."

"I do," she said in a soft whisper.

Cassiopeia smiled at her warmly. "I know that you do. And you needn't worry. Your secrets are safe with me and you can stay with me for as long as you like. But I do hope you will not feel the need to keep things from me if you don't want to. I don't care about your blood status or who you really are. I care for you a great deal, Hermione. You are a strong, brilliant witch. And your presence in my grand-nephew's life has brought back his smile, and that alone means the world to me. I would be more than happy to be your family while you're here."

Hermione sprung up from her chair and wrapped her arms around Cassiopeia in a tight embrace. When she pulled away Cassiopeia was wiping at her eyes too.

"Can I send a letter to Regulus? I'm really worried about him."

"Of course, dear."

But Regulus didn't respond to her letter or the message from the coin that day.

Or the day after.

Or the day after that.

* * *

Hermione, growing increasingly anxious, waited outside the ministry in the afternoon on the third day, waiting for him to emerge. When she saw him in a nicely pressed jacket and shirt walking down the sidewalk she approached him with a wave that he did not return. She fell into step beside him as he turned off the main road and down several narrow alleyways.

When they were far enough away and she could stand it no longer, she grabbed Regulus's arm to stop him.

His face was expressionless and he averted his gaze.

"Regulus, what is going on? I haven't heard from you for three days! What happened?"

Regulus didn't look at her. He couldn't.

"Why are you avoiding me? Why won't you talk to me?" she asked, pained.

"You should go."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what is going on."

"Hermione, listen to me," he said with a forceful edge to his voice. "You need to stop pursuing this mission. It still isn't too late for you to back out. It isn't safe. If Voldemort catches you he'll do worse than kill you. Please, you shouldn't be seen with me either. Please, just go," he begged, still avoiding her eyes.

Hermione searched his face. "Look at me, Regulus." She stepped closer to him.

He still couldn't look at her, focusing on the ground instead. "Regulus, I swore I would see this through to the end and I meant it. I know what the risks are-"

"You don't-"

"-I do." She rolled up her sleeve and pushed her wrist into the path of his gaze. "Please, Regulus. I'm in this with you. You can talk to me. You can trust me. You're not in this alone." She took another step closer to him.

He kept his eyes clenched shut, but as the last of her words settled upon him he opened them to look at her, his eyes swimming with tears. "It was so horrible," he whispered as all the air left his lungs, choking him. He staggered back against the wall, sliding down the grimy brick, burying his face in his hands. Hermione crouched down as he struggled to draw in air, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "He ordered me to kill someone and I did." His voice was a choked sob. "I'm a monster."

She gripped his shoulder tightly and used her other hand to cup his cheek, turning his head to meet her gaze. "You are not a monster." She looked into his eyes brimming with tears: so full of regret, shame, and fear. It sometimes escaped her notice with the dignified, noble air he carried with him, but in that moment she recognized that Regulus was still only a teenager, fighting a battle he had never wanted to fight. Just like her. Just like the friends she had left behind. And he had been alone for so long, fighting the battle all by himself.

She held him as he told her what happened, the terrible truth flooding out of him like a river from a broken dam. He told her how afraid he was that Voldemort would discover him, but beyond that he was afraid of what he might have to do in order to keep his cover: hurting and killing people in the Dark Lord's name.

Hermione listened to him, rubbing his shoulder in a gesture of comfort that did little to soothe him. There was nothing she could say to ease his fears: they were very real possibilities and they both knew it. She could not promise him lies. "We'll bring Voldemort down. Together, Regulus, we'll put an end to him." She stayed there beside him, holding his hand in both of hers as he dealt with his guilt and grief, and she hoped that it was enough.

* * *

Regulus threw himself into his research after that, determined more than ever to find and destroy the horcruxes. He would finish this. He had to.

A week later he met with Hermione at Kraken's Cove Cottage on the beach. Hermione trudged through the sand and wind to where he stood. He managed a small, triumphant smile as he pulled a pocket watch from his pocket to show Hermione.

"I think I managed to find a solution to our problem. I should be able to use this to point us towards the horcruxes if we get close enough. It's tied into Voldemort's magical energy, so it should have a stronger reaction to anything he's cursed."

"How are we supposed to test it?"

He handed it to her and she opened it. The minute hand pointed straight at Regulus. "I don't get it," she said.

Regulus took a few steps to the left and the hand pointed to him, following his movement. She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him until he held up his left arm, reminding her about the Dark Mark just under his sleeve. "Oh! That's brilliant."

"Thanks," Regulus said, pocketing it after she handed it back to him. He was rather proud of it. But when he looked up at Hermione her smile was gone and she was biting her lip. "What is it?"

"I have a favor to ask. And you're going to want to say no, but I need you to say yes."

He frowned grimly. "What's the favor?"

"I need you to help me prepare for a fight against the Death Eaters and Voldemort. I need you to help me practice fighting off the imperius curse."

His eyes narrowed. "No. Absolutely not."

"Regulus, they won't hesitate to use it on me if they can. I can defend myself well enough against most curses, but this one I can't practice by myself. I need your help."

"Hermione-"

"I trust you, Regulus. Please. You have to help me otherwise they might use me against you. Please, Regulus."

Seeing that he wasn't going to talk her out of it he agreed. "Just don't make me do anything really embarrassing," she said, trying to lighten the mood.

"What's the point if you're going to take all the fun out of using an Unforgivable Curse?" he added dryly as she took several steps backwards.

He pointed his wand at her. "Are you sure?" he asked again.

She nodded and they began. Hermione wasn't very good at avoiding the commands. Her hand shot into the air a dozen times and it hardly ever wavered. After a half hour of practice Regulus stopped. It was hopeless. "Let's just hope you don't get hit by the imperius curse."

Hermione made a grumbling sound and kicked a stone in the sand with her foot in frustration. They practiced dueling without the imperius curse. Hermione's reflexes were improving dramatically. Regulus was difficult to read, his face betraying nothing before he attacked and it made him a formidable opponent.

Hermione clutched a stitch in her side as he helped her up after a particularly intense duel that had resulted in a stunned Hermione lying on her backside in the sand. "Why do you always use stunning spells? Can't you just disarm me?" she groaned as he helped her stand.

"Death Eaters aren't going to hit you with a disarming spell."

"Yeah, well they probably won't hit me with stunning spells either."

"Some of them might," he warned darkly.

Hermione looked over at him and saw him swallow nervously. Neither of them spoke, but she knew what he was talking about.

Her hand went to her throat, where she could still feel Fenrir's dirty claw-like nails digging into her. "Which ones?" she croaked out.

Regulus shook his head, rubbing his wrist where the Dark Mark was, hating it. "I'm not sure. I haven't been on the raids, but I know some of them do. The _Prophet _leaves out those bits of information, but the muggle papers will sometimes mention it. There's rumors though."

"Just tell me."

Regulus shut his eyes, a muscle in his jaw twitched. "Avery. Yaxley. Dolohov probably. Crabbe. Gerald Mulciber and his son Rufus. Rodolphus Lestrange…" he trailed off, gritting his teeth.

"And Rabastan? Karkaroff? Rosier? Malfoy? And the rest of them?"

"I don't know. But they are not good men, Hermione."

"I know-"

"-No, you don't. They will hurt you in worse ways if they get the chance." He pressed his fist to his forehead and took a deep breath, letting it out through his nose. When he opened his eyes he turned to her. "Hermione, look, I know that you think the best way to look for the cup is to get close to them, but there are other ways. You shouldn't put yourself in danger."

"I'm always in danger, Regulus. Every second I am here I am in danger. But I'm not going to back out now. I can do this, Regulus. Trust me."

"I do trust you, Hermione. It's _them _that I don't trust!"

"I'm doing this, Regulus."

"Hermione…" But he knew it was no good. She had made up her mind. Her arms were folded in stubborn defiance, her jaw set. "Fine. But keep your coin on you at all times. If you need help, day or night, call on me."

She nodded, biting back the retort that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. "The ball is this weekend. If we're right, we'll find the diary and be that much closer to the end of this."

Regulus pulled out the pocket watch once again and flipped it open. The hand pointed straight down at his wrist. The weekend could not come fast enough.


	22. Chapter 22: Down the Rabbit Hole

**Chapter 22: Down the Rabbit Hole**

Hermione arrived with Cassiopeia at the entrance to Malfoy Manor, walking up the front drive with other guests in delightfully beautiful gowns and dress robes. Sparkling lights of various colors illuminated the pathways as white peacocks strutted about the front garden. Clutching her transfigured bag in her hand she ascended the stairs and entered into the very same ballroom where Bellatrix had tortured her.

An icy chill ran down her back as they entered.

Cassiopeia met several of her friends and introduced Hermione, who was trying so hard not to think where she was that she missed half of the new names of the people Cassiopeia introduced her to.

When she saw Regulus make his way over to her she breathed a sigh of relief; his presence calmed her. He bowed to his aunt and the rest of the ladies, including Hermione before Cassiopeia urged them to go and socialize with a younger crowd, waving them off with a smile before turning back to catch up with her friends, inquiring about their grandchildren.

They made their way through the crowd until Hermione could make out Lucius with his white blonde hair and Narcissa, looking absolutely resplendent in a gown of shimmering blue gossamer. Narcissa beamed at them as they approached the group, although Hermione noticed her eyes glance at the distance between the two of them, noting that tonight she was not accompanying Regulus as his guest. The others noticed too.

The moment Hermione said hello, Narcissa pulled her away from the group of men into a corner down the hall out of sight. Once she was certain they were alone Narcissa turned back excitedly, unable to wait a moment longer.

"I'm pregnant!" she whispered gleefully, squeezing Hermione's hands.

"Really? Oh, Narcissa, that's wonderful news!" Hermione said excitedly, returning her enthusiasm.

"And the tree from the ritual is growing strong. I look after it every day. You really must come over for tea in the garden soon and I'll show you. It's already taller than I am!"

Hermione beamed at her. "That's wonderful. I'm so, _so_ happy for you! Have you told Lucius yet?"

"I have. But we haven't told anyone else besides the family healer. We don't want the news to get out yet, since we've... been disappointed before."

Hermione nodded and gave her hand another reassuring squeeze. "How far along are you?"

"About six weeks or so. But I knew it the moment it happened. The tree grew up a foot overnight."

Hermione hoped her face wasn't actually showing the squeamishness she felt at the idea of Narcissa and Lucius's nocturnal activities as she said, "That's great!" in as encouraging a tone as she could muster.

Narcissa nodded enthusiastically and told Hermione about the tree's progress and how hopeful it made her feel to see each new leaf and twig sprouting from it.

"Lucius visits it too sometimes. He touches my stomach every time we're alone together. Oh, he's so excited. I know we're trying not to get our hopes up too much, but it's so hard not to." She embraced Hermione and whispered a tearful thank you in her ear before wiping the corners of her eyes. "My healer is still monitoring me closely given my history, but I'm taking all the potions and eating what she tells me to. So far it looks promising."

Hermione smiled at her and listened as she gushed for a few minutes more, bursting with joy, until finally they rejoined the party.

"What are you two ladies sneaking off to discuss in dark corners?" Rabastan Lestrange asked with a salacious twinkle in his eye.

"Gardening secrets, Rab. I'm sure you wouldn't be interested," smiled Narcissa.

Hermione caught the look of amusement on Lucius's face as his wife took his arm.

"Yes, you certainly do have a magic touch, my dear," he said in a low voice to his wife that Hermione pretended not to hear.

She glanced around at the group and noted that Mr. Rosier was not amongst them like he had been last time. A quick glance around the room and she found him, leaning against the wall near the fireplace, alone, watching the party with a vacant, disinterested gaze. Hermione excused herself and approached him, noting that as she came to stand beside him she received many severe looks from other guests. Rosier took a sip from his champagne and spoke without looking at her.

"While it is lovely to see you again, Miss Krum, you would be wise not to be seen with me."

"Am I not allowed to choose with whom I spend my time?"

"You may indeed. I am merely pointing out that a young woman such as yourself may not wish to be seen with the likes of me after recent events."

She was quiet for a moment, but she made no move to leave. There was a pause in the music as the last dance came to an end. "Might I have the next dance, Mr. Rosier?"

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I do not think that is wise, Miss Krum."

She stepped in front of him and offered him her hand.

"Miss Krum…" he warned again, but she ignored it.

"Surely a gentleman such as yourself would not deny a lady's invitation to dance?"

The set of his jaw softened and a hint of a smile twitched at his lips. "Of course not. It would be my honor." He offered her his arm and escorted her over to dance floor.

Heads turned to watch the two of them as she walked, clutching his arm.

"People will talk, Miss Krum."

"People always do," she shrugged, taking her place across from him as the music started.

She stepped forward to take his hand. "I was sorry to hear about your loss, Mr. Rosier. You have my sincere condolences." From the corner of her eye she saw a stunned look quickly replaced by one of curiosity as his hand rested at her waist.

"You would be one of the first to do so," he remarked. "Considering my father's affiliation and the manner of his death." The words seemed to be difficult for him to say, and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"He died a noble death in pursuit of a greater good."

He was careful not to raise an eyebrow in surprise.

Hermione knew making such a declaration where they might be overheard was a bold move, but she also knew it was necessary to gain the Death Eater's favor. "And he was your father. It is a terrible pain, to lose those we love. I am sorry for your loss and the grief it must cause to have lost someone so important to you."

"I suppose you know what it's like, having lost your own parents so recently as well."

She looked at him with a sadness that was real. "I do, in some small part. But I cannot pretend to know your own suffering. How have you been coping with the loss?"

He drew himself up a little, straightening his back. "As well as can be expected. I'm afraid the loss of my father is not the only one I've experienced as of late. A great many of my friends are afraid to associate with me. And Miss Aluston ended our courtship."

"I'm terribly sorry to hear that. Were you close?"

"Our relationship was still in its infancy, but it is disappointing all the same. Now that I am the head of my house it falls to me to find a wife and provide an heir or else my family name will fade into history."

"Surely a man as accomplished as yourself must have women lining up at your front door for the opportunity to become Mrs. Rosier."

He scoffed a laugh, but smiled at her as he twirled her. "I think you can guess why they are not." He pulled her back in.

"I suspect that they believe the son takes after the father," she said in a low voice that would not carry to the other couples.

"I believe you are correct. As you can imagine, it certainly narrows down one's prospects."

"Well then it is their loss."

"And your gain?" he asked with an amused smile.

"I would never presume to be worthy of a powerful man such as you, Mr. Rosier."

His smug smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "And if I deem you worthy? What then?"

"Then I would be incredibly flattered. But I suspect you will not wish to pursue a relationship with me."

"Why ever not?" he asked, clearly enjoying the game.

"As the head of your household you want a woman to give you children. I want a career and a partner who will challenge me, not treat me like a brood mare. No, I think a man like you doesn't have the patience to tame a woman like me. I am far too wild for you, Mr. Rosier," she teased.

"Wild? Well, you certainly are spirited, I'll give you that. But wild remains to be seen. Besides, as a thoroughly modern witch I'm sure you would agree that a woman can have a career and a family. The two are not mutually exclusive." He paused for a moment, looking over her shoulder at the group of Death Eaters behind them. "And I think that you will find I am more patient than others." His eyes darted towards Rabastan who was watching the two of them over Narcissa's shoulder with a peculiar expression.

"Mr. Lestrange, you mean?"

"Him and others. I assure you, I have more patience than all of them combined."

"Surely as the second son, Mr. Lestrange doesn't have the same pressures as yourself?"

"You would usually be correct. However, given that his older brother Rodolphus has been married to Bellatrix for nearly ten years and she has given him no children, the responsibility to carry on the family name lies with him. Given the recent death of their father as well, the pressure to produce an heir will only increase, if the Lestrange's are going to carry on their family's legacy."

"Yet he must also face the same limited pool of candidates," Hermione murmured, a plan coming together in her head that made her heart sink into her stomach.

Rosier snorted, tearing Hermione's attention away from the plan in her head. "Rabastan would have fewer candidates than I would, I should think. The Lestranges are an old pureblood family, yes, but they have a reputation that would make most families hide their daughters."

Hermione's heart pounded in her chest. "What do you mean by that?" she asked in a low whisper.

"A few generations back the Lestrange men were known for taking wives under the imperius curse. Wives who did not bear sons had a habit of falling deathly ill not long after. Often they were not yet cold in their graves before a new wife lay in the marriage bed."

Hermione felt her blood freeze. "Bellatrix is still around all these years later without giving Rodolphus a son." She never thought in a million years she would feel better knowing Bellatrix was alive.

Rosier barked a laugh. "Bellatrix is by far the most terrifying member of the Lestrange family, let me assure you. She may be his wife, but I have no doubt that Rodolphus fears her more than he wishes for an heir. Especially since Rabastan is all too eager to bed witches."

"What?" Hermione couldn't stop herself.

The dance ended abruptly and Rosier bowed to her, a smug, knowing smile teasing at his lips.

"Wait, Evan."

His lip curled at the sound of his name rolling off her tongue with such eagerness, knowing he had piqued her curiosity.

"May I have the next dance as well?" Eyes lingered on the pair as they remained on the dance floor.

He bowed to her again, stepping forward as the music started once more, a clever, satisfied smirk on his face. Taking her hand and her waist again, he said, "Caught your interest, have I?"

"Indeed. Well played, Mr. Rosier."

"Am I Mr. Rosier again so soon? I rather like hearing you use my given name. Please, call me Evan," he flashed her a grin with white teeth.

"Evan," she said softly, stepping just a little closer to him so they could talk quietly. "Do you know something about Mr. Lestrange's romantic past?"

"It is not much of a secret. He has enjoyed his freedom as a bachelor and second son a great deal. Often with witches below his station in more informal relationships, if you understand my meaning. He is a well known patron of the Lusty Leprechaun down Knockturn Alley. And last year he disappeared for months with a pureblood witch, Abigail Leeson, and when she returned with a rather swollen belly her parents tried to force a marriage, but Richard Lestrange refused the match as there was never a formal courtship with a written contract, and called the woman a gold-digging niffler."

"But what became of her and the child?"

Rosier shrugged. "I'm not sure. Last I heard she'd been sent off to live with relatives in Spain. She doesn't have a child with her now, though."

Hermione studied Rabastan from the corner of her eye. "You are certain?"

"Quite. It is common knowledge amongst some of upper society."

"It sounds quite scandalous. I am surprised no one else has mentioned it."

"Not many would dare gossip about the Lestranges, lest they be discovered. It would have been more scandalous if Abigail had had the baby. At least now she can move on and pretend it never happened. She might still make a good match with some foreign wizard who doesn't know about her besmirched reputation."

His words lit a fire in her belly and she pressed her lips together in a frown. "And why is _his reputation_ not besmirched by this if _he_ was the one the one who fathered the child?" she asked hotly.

Rosier looked at her carefully. "It is not uncommon for men of British high society to take a mistress or sire a bastard."

This rankled against Hermione and before she could stop herself or think better of it she asked, "Do you plan on taking a mistress?"

He raised an eyebrow at her brashness, but grinned as she turned bright pink in embarrassment. "I suppose that depends on whether or not my wife can satisfy my needs." His smile grew wider as her cheeks grew hotter and she looked away from his eyes.

"Surely there are other ways your wife could satisfy you. Is there not comfort in conversation and other activities a couple might engage in?" she tried to recover.

"Oh, there are certainly other ways a wife might _satisfy_ her husband. Conversation is certainly an excellent start, but the _activities_ are usually more satisfying for both parties," he said in a low, seductive voice as he passed behind her, sliding his hand along the small of her back.

When he came back to face her she frowned at his self-satisfied smirk. "Do you take great pleasure in making me blush?" she asked hotly.

"Oh indeed I do. Although I must say I imagine I would take greater pleasure with you still in other ways, if given the chance." His voice was just soft enough for her alone to hear him.

"Mr. Rosier, you grow too bold," she said, pulling her hand from his.

Unperturbed, he chuckled and bowed. "My apologies, Miss Krum. I did not mean to overstep. I enjoy witty banter is all, I promise. I would never make untoward assumptions about your ladyship or your virtuous nature. Forgive me if in my jest I have offended you."

Hermione hesitated, aware of the other dancing couples watching them curiously.

He extended his hand and she accepted it, moving back into step with the dance. As the dance came to a close he bowed and offered to escort her back to the group. She took his arm as they stepped aside to let another couple in.

"Might I write to you, Miss Krum? It has been some time since I've met someone with such a sharp wit. And your kind condolences mean a great deal to me in a difficult time when I find myself with few friends."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Yes, you may, assuming you are more careful with your quill than you are with your tongue."

He chuckled and shook his head at her, biting back the clever remark she read on his face. "I'll try to keep it in check," he said cheekily as they reached the group.

"I see Miss Krum was able to pull Mr. Rosier away from his spot as a wallflower," Lucius quipped.

"Yes. She must be a powerful sorceress indeed to pull him away for not only one, but _two_ dances," Rabastan added, flashing a smile at her. He opened his mouth to say more, but Dolohov stepped forward in front of Hermione, to her great displeasure.

"I believe the lady owes me a dance," he said, standing a bit closer to her than was entirely proper as he offered her his arm.

Hermione had prepared for this though, and was about to refuse him when to her surprise, Rabastan stepped forward and said, "Miss Krum does not owe you anything, Antonin. She may dance with whomever she chooses. She is a free woman, after all." He flashed her another charming smile and offered his arm to her.

Hermione pretended to be flattered and graciously accepted his offer.

"Might I have this dance, Miss Krum?"

"You may," she said, lifting her chin and casting a defiant glance at Dolohov before walking with Rabastan to the edge of the dance floor where they waited for the song to end.

"I must apologize for Antonin. He is a powerful wizard, but sometimes his arrogance gets the better of him and he tends to forget his manners and better social graces."

Hermione was surprised at how candid he was being with her. "Thank you for stepping in. I had a right mind to refuse him, but I don't wish to offend my new friends when I have so few."

"Are we friends now, Miss Krum?"

"I would certainly like you to be," she said, smiling shyly at him. He did not seem to be as affected by his grief over the loss of his father as Evan had been by his.

Still, she felt that she should say something to him. "I was sorry to hear about you father's passing, Rab."

He turned to her, a curious expression on his face. "Are you? Most people are not. My father was not known as a man most would miss."

"But you must miss him, as his son. I know I certainly suffered a great deal at the loss of my own father."

"You clearly never met my father. I hope you will not judge me too harshly, but I cannot help but feel a bit of relief at his passing."

Hermione was surprised but considered her words carefully. She would not be able to use shared empathy to draw him in like she had with Evan. "I suppose not all fathers are good to their children. I like to think about the good memories I have of my father, but it is hard to feel loved and appreciated when your father leaves you with nothing but a name and a dowry and barely a roof over your head."

His amber brown eyes flicked over her appraisingly as they stepped up to dance. He took her hand and held her waist firmly, searching her eyes. "True enough. Although I'm certain your father was a better man than mine. Thinking about it, I'm very glad you never met him. He has-or had-a tendency to frighten most people."

"I'm sure you would have kept me safe," she teased and he grinned at her.

"And what about your father? Was he a terrifying man?"

"Oh, all Bulgarian men are terrifying. Very strong and grouchy, the lot of them."

Rabastan barked a laugh. "I can see why you left then. British wizards are probably much less intimidating."

"I wouldn't say that. Especially not after meeting such powerful men such as yourself and your friends."

He grinned wider at her praise. "And what would your father think of me and my friends? Would he approve?"

Hermione pretended to pause and consider. "Of your friends, yes, I should think so. But of you, Rab, definitely not."

He pretended to be offended. "And why wouldn't he approve of me?"

"Because you're a threat."

"A threat?"

"To his innocent daughter. Those devilish good looks and charming smile are enough to make any father nervous, I'm sure."

He laughed and spun her. "Well perhaps I should be quite grateful I don't have to face his wrath if I want to dance with his daughter."

"Oh, but it's my mother you really would have had to worry about."

"Why is that?"

"Only mother dragons are fiercer than French witches."

He laughed again. "I see I certainly would have had my work cut out for me."

"What makes you think you still don't?" she asked slyly, spinning back into his arms. She over-corrected and tripped forward, landing with both hands against his chest as he caught her before she fell.

"It seems you're falling for me already," he smirked, pulling her up and flashing a confident smile at her.

Her cheeks pinked a little as his hands rested on her hips even after she had her feet back under her. She took a timid step back and he readjusted his hands so that they could step back into the dance. "I bet you have many ladies falling for your charms, Rab."

"But there's only one I want," he teased.

"Might I know who the lucky lady is?" she mused.

"I think you already know who I have my eye on, Miss Krum," he whispered in her ear, before pulling back and gazing deep into her eyes.

Hermione's heart pounded against her chest at the intensity of his gaze. "I-I find myself at a loss for words, Rab. Of all women, why me?"

He lifted his eyebrow in an amused fashion. "Because you are a bewitching woman, Miss Krum. Intelligent, charming, clever, and beautiful. I cannot imagine any man who has ever met you would not be attracted to you. Plus, you are a very remarkable dancer," he added with a wink as the dance ended. He bowed and kissed her hand.

* * *

Regulus saw him do it from across the room and felt his heart do a flip. An angry serpent coiled in his chest, ready to strike. He watched them walk back to the group, hating seeing her hand curled in the crook of Rab's arm. Rab patted her hand before she let it drop and to his chagrin Regulus noted that he was not the only one who had noticed. Evan Rosier was watching Rab with a careful eye as well. He felt a muscle in his jaw twitch.

Hermione asked Lucius about the history of the Malfoy Manor as had been part of the plan, but Regulus was getting anxious. The plan had been for her to try and learn as much about the manor as they could get away with before they went trying to look for the horcrux.

"Would you care for a drink?" he asked Hermione. She looked at him in surprise, having not expected to begin the search until much later in the evening, but she nodded. Turning on his heel, Regulus stepped away from the group and brought back two flutes of champagne, offering her one. He noted the orange sweet in her hand as she accepted the flute from him.

Regulus turned to Narcissa and complimented her dress, asking if she might give them a twirl. Narcissa smiled and obliged, the light blue material fanning out as she did.

While everyone's eyes were on Narcissa Hermione quickly swallowed the orange sweet and the nosebleed nougat took effect instantly, her nose dripping blood.

Hermione thrust her champagne flute into Lucius's stunned hands, as he had been watching his wife, while Hermione tried to staunch the flow of blood with her hands.

Regulus had his handkerchief out before any of the others, offering it to Hermione as they crowded around her to see if she was alright. She took the handkerchief from him, but the nosebleed nougat had already made her bleed all over her dress.

"Oh no, Hermione, are you alright?" Evan asked, taking a step closer to her.

"Here, let me take you to the bathroom," Regulus offered, putting a hand on her shoulder, preparing to guide her when Narcissa stepped through and parted the lot of them.

"Don't be silly, Regulus. I'll take her. She might need help cleaning her dress. Move aside, move aside."

Hermione and Regulus locked eyes fearfully as their plan began to unravel.

The two women bustled through the crowd and down the hall until they turned a corner. Hermione pinched her nose as Narcissa wiped at her face with a damp cloth. "I'm so sorry, Narcissa. I'm so embarrassed," Hermione managed in a high, nasally voice.

"These things happen, Hermione. Usually at the worst times, I'm afraid. But I think we might be able to keep the stain from setting in your dress." She passed her wand over several spots on Hermione's pink dress, siphoning away the stains.

"Could you get me some tissues?" Hermione asked and Narcissa opened up the cabinet under the sink to search for a box. Hermione popped the other half of the nosebleed nougat into her mouth and quickly swallowed it.

Narcissa handed her a fresh tissue and Hermione wiped at her nose. "I think it stopped," she commented after a minute, touching her nose gingerly. She washed her face and tried to clean the handkerchief the best she could, but Narcissa told her to toss it.

Feeling a twinge of regret, Hermione did. "I should get Regulus a new one."

"I'm sure he has plenty. Besides, he seemed most eager to be of assistance to you," she said with that knowing smile she got every time Hermione mentioned Regulus. After several visits for tea, she was growing quite accustomed to Narcissa's teasing.

"You know it isn't like that," Hermione said dully.

"Reggie isn't like the other men. He's quiet and shy and he isn't good at sharing his feelings. But I can tell he cares for you."

"He doesn't, Narcissa. I thought he might. There was a moment several weeks ago when I thought he might... kiss me, but it didn't happen and he's been distant ever since. I think he just wants to be friends."

Narcissa helped her re-apply her makeup as she told her about the moment leading up to what she had hoped would be a kiss. "But then it didn't happen."

"What? He was leaning in and everything and then chickened out?"

"Not exactly." Hermione bit her lip, unsure of whether or not she should say anything. But of all people, Narcissa might understand, so she tried. "He was summoned."

Narcissa's eyes widened in understanding, her calculating gaze glancing over Hermione. "So you know," Narcissa said, applying Hermione's lipstick for her.

"Yes."

"And your birthday was in the middle of September? I remember that night. Lucius was howling in pain when he awoke. And he looked terrible when he got back." There was a moment of silence as she dabbed at Hermione's lip with a tissue to remove excess lipstick. "I heard about what happened that night. I'm so sorry that had to happen at such a time."

Hermione hesitated, packing away her makeup in her bag.

"I'm sure Reggie still cares for you, Hermione. But what he's involved with can be dangerous. If I know Reggie, he's probably worried about hurting you. That's why he's keeping his distance. It doesn't mean he doesn't care for you."

"How do you manage it, Narcissa? Being married to Lucius? I worry about Regulus all the time, and we're not a couple. I can't imagine what it must be like for you."

"Don't start crying now, I just finished your makeup."

Hermione managed a smile which Narcissa returned fondly.

"I manage the best I can."

They returned to the party and Rabastan asked Hermione for another dance. As he led her out onto the dance floor for the second time Narcissa watched Regulus's eyes follow them. When he turned back he caught Narcissa's eye and stepped closer to be beside her as Rosier, Yaxley, Dolohov, and Lucius spoke amongst themselves about a recent change in several high ranking positions in leadership at the ministry.

"Might I ask a favor?" Regulus said, his voice low so that the other men would not hear him. "As you may know, Hermione is an avid reader. I was hoping I might show her the library here as it is far more extensive than the one at Grimmauld Place. Would it be alright if I gave her a tour?"

"Of course, of course, Reggie. Please, be my guest. Just do return anything you borrow. Lucius is not fond of parting with his possessions."

"Thank you, cousin."

"Oh, and Reggie, if you do happen to have deeper feelings for Hermione, you should act quickly. I fear soon enough you may have competition." He swallowed slowly and nodded curtly as if to say that he understood.

When Hermione came back she approached Regulus and thanked him for giving her the handkerchief. "Would you like to see the library? Malfoy Manor has a much more extensive collection of volumes than most. I thought you might like to see it."

Panic gripped her heart as he said the words and she shook her head in a tiny motion.

"I spoke with Narcissa. She said it was perfectly alright to have a look around," he said, giving her a meaningful look.

"Oh, oh, yes, that would be lovely," she managed, taking his arm as he guided her away from the ballroom.

He led her down a hall and under a large archway, where Hermione froze. She remembered passing under that archway before when Fenrir had dragged her under it by her hair.

Regulus stepped inside, but she wrenched her hand from his arm and stepped back into the hallway, leaning against the wall for support, shaking her head in rapid, tiny movements as her forehead creased in anxiety and panic.

"No," she whispered, covering her mouth to stifle the sob.

Regulus glanced around the room and then back at Hermione, putting the pieces together from her reaction. This was where Fenrir took her when he was going to rape and kill her.

She put both hands over her mouth to stifle her sob as tears streamed down her cheeks, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the room, the back corner where Greyback had put his hands on her.

Regulus pointed his wand and put up a silencing charm. "Are you alright? Is there anything I can do?"

Hermione shook her head, sucking in large gasps of air. "I can't feel my legs," she told him. "I can't feel them. Regulus, I don't think I can do this."

"You can do this, Hermione. You can. I'm right here. I'll help you."

It took her a few minutes for her to regain her composure.

"Don't look at the room, look at me," he said, helping her to her feet. She was as shaky as a newborn fawn. Regulus walked backwards into the room, keeping his eyes trained on her. She staggered badly and Regulus caught her, and she clutched onto his arms as the world slipped sideways for her. "Look at me, Hermione."

"Okay," she whispered, blinking back her tears to focus on his face.

"That's good. Really good. Now tell me what book it is."

"A green one. Golden script on the side. With the Malfoy family crest on it." He glanced around for a minute until he saw one that matched the description and walked backwards towards it.

Regulus pulled the book out and a seamless door opened in the bookshelf. Regulus did a quick set of spells to ward people away before stepping down the stone staircase that opened up before them.

Hermione regained her footing once they were clear of the library and the memory of Fenrir Greyback. When they reached the mirror on the wall Hermione pulled out her wand and tapped it, but nothing happened. She glanced and read the inscription around the rim of the mirror which was encircled with the Malfoy family motto: _Sanctimonia Vincet Semper. _"Purity will always conquer," she whispered under her breath. "Maybe it won't work for me. You try."

Regulus stepped forward and tapped the mirror with his wand, which opened up into a liquid pool of metal. They stepped into the portal and Hermione gasped at how large the room was. It was as large as a warehouse and full of terrifying pieces that radiated dark magic.

Regulus pulled out the pocket watch and flipped it open. It pointed at his arm for a second then slowly swung, pointing to the far east corner of the room. Hermione gripped his arm tightly as they passed by the bloody altar she remembered from last time, three sets of dark black armor that were emblazoned with the family crest, several Witch's Bridle masks, an iron maiden, a sarcophagus, a mummified acromantula spider, a cauldron large enough for a person, and a rack set with iron manacles. Hermione resisted the urge to shudder as they passed, staying close to Regulus as they hurried along, following the needle.

They came to the far back wall and there it was, lying in place on a decorative pedestal: the diary.

"Do you think it's booby-trapped?" Hermione asked nervously, stepping a little bit closer and illuminating the tip of her wand.

Raising his own, Regulus muttered several incantations under his breath, but when nothing happened he took a cautious step forward. "Is it safe to touch it?"

"I think so. Ginny and Harry touched it. Just don't write in it. Otherwise it will wake up the memory of Riddle."

"Okay, I'm going to try and take it."

"No, wait!" she hissed, pulling back his arm.

"What?" he hissed back in alarm. The oppressive darkness of the room made them both whisper, despite the fact that they were alone.

"In the movies, whenever you take something from a pedestal there's a switch that activates and sets off a trap. We should make a replica and try to switch them at the same time."

Regulus shook his head at her and pointed his wand at the diary. "You and your muggle movies. I was going to switch it with a copy anyway, but if we have to be all dramatic about it…"

Hermione handed him a copy of her old herbology textbook from fifth year from her bag and he transfigured it into an exact replica of the diary.

Thankful for his years of practice as a seeker and his quick hands as a result, Regulus switched them in a fluid motion.

Hermione froze, her whole body tense as she waited for something to happen. After a painfully long minute of nothing but silence she relaxed. "I was so certain it would trigger some kind of trap," she murmured as Regulus handed her the real diary, which she slipped into her bag.

"You forget, the Malfoys aren't muggles. I doubt they've ever seen a movie. I assume given their arrogance and the security it takes to get into this place, the Malfoys don't need elaborate traps. Come on, let's get out of here."

They walked rather quickly back to the portal, which returned back into the mirror it had been previously once they passed through, and then back up the stairs and into the library.

With a grunt Regulus pushed the door back into place and the magic resealed itself as he pushed the book back in line with the others.

Hermione clutched onto his hand tightly, pulling him towards the archway.

"Wait," he said hurriedly, flicking his wand at the walls of books. A pair of red ones titled _The Knights of the Rose, Parts I and II _floated down into his outstretched hands. As soon as they were in his arms he let her pull him from the room.

She burst through the archway like someone struggling to break through water to reach air. As Hermione braced herself and caught her breath Regulus undid the spells and stepped next to her.

Uncertain as he was, he didn't know if he should touch her or offer her comfort in some other way. His mouth dried as he tried to find words that might help, so instead he said nothing and stood there feeling useless.

Hermione was glad of it, though. She didn't want to hear words of comfort of see that look of concern in his eyes. She focused on the feeling of the wallpaper, cool and smooth beneath her fingers. Slowly, she managed to move her feet along the hallway, listening intently to the chatter and bustle of the party beyond and putting her hands on the wall to steady herself. She forced all other thoughts from her head, focusing just on those elements she could detect with her sense. When they reached the end of the hallway Hermione paused and took a few calming breaths before putting out her hand for Regulus's arm and taking the books from him.

"Thank you," she whispered as they stepped back into the ballroom and she took his arm.

When they arrived back Narcissa was talking to Walburga and Orion. Hermione made an effort not to groan as they approached Regulus's parents. She plastered on her best smile and greeted them both with a polite curtsy before turning to Narcissa to thank her for letting her see the library. Narcissa made her promise to bring the books back in good condition and then laughed when she saw what Regulus had picked out for her. "I see. Very clever. I'm sure she'll love them."

Hermione listened as Narcissa introduced her father, Cygnus Black III to her. Cygnus seemed to be remarkably younger than Hermione had expected him to be, privately making a note to review the Black family tree when she got a chance.

Cassiopeia joined the brief family reunion and stole Hermione away to introduce her to several prominent healers she knew from her time working with St. Mungo's.

The rest of the night seemed to pass in a blur for her. She remembered dancing with both Rabastan and Evan once more, talking with several strangers whose names she could not remember, and eating a slice of the most delicious, soft, perfectly sweet chocolate cake she had ever tasted in her life.

At one point near the end she circled back to Regulus and asked him if he wanted to dance. He obliged, and although they didn't talk to each other at all, they couldn't help but smile at their success, sharing in their secret victory together.

Hermione parted and bid the group a good evening, thanking Lucius and Narcissa for hosting such a wonderful event and inviting her to it.

As she fell into bed she sent a quick message to Regulus through the coin: _Tomorrow, midnight, the same place as last time_.

* * *

It was a clear night out on the beach at Kraken's Cove as Hermione crossed the dark sands, following the pulsing balls of light that hovered around, illuminating the rock they had used to destroy the locket where Regulus was waiting for her.

"I already set up protection spells," he informed her as she pulled out the diary and set it on the slab.

She pulled out one of the fangs and offered it to him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, taking it from her.

She nodded. "It should be you."

His hand closed around the fang, his fingertips lingering against hers for a moment. He swallowed the lump in his throat as Hermione drew her wand and pointed it at the diary. The balls of light seemed to draw closer to them, hovering, waiting. Regulus braced himself against the rock and raised the fang before plunging it with all the force he could muster into the very center of it. The fang pierced through the black leather and ink spurted out and pooled like blood, flooding over the rock, dripping down into the sand.

Blood pounded in his ears, but as the ink slowly stopped spreading he let the black-tipped fang fall to his side. "Is it over?" he asked, cautiously, looking at Hermione.

She nudged it open with her wand to reveal the ink-soaked pages. "I think so. Try the watch."

He pulled it from his pocket and the minute hand pointed at his wrist. They had done it.

"We did it," he gasped, showing her the watch's face pointing to him.

"Only two left," she whispered excitedly, beaming at him.

"I'm starting to think we might actually pull this off," he said in pleasant surprise as she took the fang back from him and put it in her purse along with the mangled remains of the diary.

"Always the tone of surprise, Regulus? Haven't you learned not to bet against me yet?" she grinned up at him.

"Hermione," he said, stepping closer to her, his voice soft and gentle as he took her hand in his and kissed it. Even in the dim light he saw her cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink as he looked deep into her eyes. "I will always bet on you, no matter the odds. Always."

He stepped closer to her and her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut as he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her.

Her lips moved against his, slowly, savoring the taste of his kiss and when he broke the kiss her lips lingered and she did not open her eyes for a moment until her senses returned to her.

Both of their hearts were pounding in their chests and they glanced away nervously when their eyes met afterwards.

Hermione could not help the blushing grin that spread across her cheeks as he looked at her, their hands still linked. She felt positively giddy. Kissing him was better than anything she had ever tasted. It was like falling into a story, the way the rest of the world disappeared and the magic began to play inside her head.

Regulus did not try to fight the smile that tugged at his lips looking at her, the feel of her delicate hand in his. His tongue traced the sweetness of her kiss that lingered on his lips as sparks tingled in his fingertips.

Hermione seemed to rouse herself from the dreamlike state of bliss before he did, as she looked up into his moonlight silver eyes. "I-I should probably go before I'm missed," she said, still not daring to pull her hand away from his.

His heart fell, even though he knew she was right. "Then... good night, Hermione," he whispered against the back of her hand before raising it to his lips and kissing it.

Hermione's heart fluttered in her chest at the sensation of his breath against her hand. When he let go of her hand she gripped her bag and took a few slow steps backwards, unable to hide her giddy smile until she turned away and disapparated.

Regulus lingered on the beach, watching the spot where she had disappeared as the warmth from her hand slowly dissipated in the chill of the sea air. But even after the cold settled in around him, he couldn't help but feel warmed by the memory of her kiss.


	23. Chapter 23: One with the Enemy

**Chapter 23: One with the Enemy**

Cassiopeia noticed the spring in Hermione's step as she went about her usual activities over the next two weeks. She had a feeling it was completely unrelated to the applications she was submitting to work at the ministry. Letters for Hermione were coming much more frequently. Cassiopeia was now quite used to the emerald green wax seal of Rosier and the onyx black seal of the Lestrange family accompanying her usual letters from Regulus and Narcissa. She did not say anything about these new contacts that seemed to have taken quite an interest in Hermione, but she did note that the letters from Rosier and Lestrange got longer and longer each time a new one arrived.

Hermione had gone to lunch with Evan Rosier only the other day after she interviewed with his law firm. And not long after she had joined Narcissa and Lucius for an afternoon tea with Rabastan Lestrange at a new cafe in the center of Diagon Alley.

Still, Cassiopeia felt it was not quite time to worry until she received a letter from Bellatrix asking after this new contact of Rabastan's that she began to worry in earnest for the girl. When she inquired about the letters Hermione brushed them aside with a remark like "Mr. Rosier just wanted to know how the interview went" or "I'm just trying to be more social and make friends", but Cassiopeia was not born yesterday and she knew things could get out of hand if Hermione's secret was discovered.

On the morning of November 22nd she received two formal letters of quality parchment from both Evan Rosier and Rodolphus Lestrange, and she knew it was time to have a more serious discussion with Hermione.

As Hermione came down for breakfast she paused, curiosity crossing her face as her usual stack of letters was not sitting next to her breakfast plate, but rested neatly in front of Cassiopeia besides the sugar bowl instead. Hermione sat down and waited for Cassiopeia to set aside the newspaper, unable to shake the feeling she was waiting like a child to receive a punishment for something she had done wrong. "Is everything alright, Cassie?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"Actually, Hermione, I think it's time we have a formal discussion about courtships." Hermione's felt a stone drop into her stomach. "As I'm sure you are aware, relationships in British high society are different in the wizarding world than they are in the muggle world." She listened attentively as Cassiopeia spoke. "Now, I have noticed that you have been corresponding with both Rabasatan Lestrange and Evan Rosier on a regular basis, but today I have received two letters requesting an audience with you from the heads of both families. I presume both are interested in pursuing a formal courtship with you. Hermione, it goes without saying that if you agree to either or both of these formal offers of courtship, you will be in grave danger if you are discovered not to be a pureblood, as you surely will be with that word carved into your arm."

Hermione shrank in her chair.

"Now, I do not have the highest respect for either of these two families, but if you are intent on pursuing either or both courtships, you will need to know what it entails. So…" she paused, raising her tea and looking at Hermione from over the rim of her cup. "Are you interested in pursuing a formal courtship with either of these men?"

"Yes. Both, actually."

"Both? And you realize what may happen if you are discovered?"

"Yes."

Cassiopeia nodded slowly, assessing Hermione's determined face. "Then I will do what I can to help you."

She set her tea down and folded her hands in her lap. "First, a courtship comes with a formal contract."

Hermione made a face. "Is that really necessary in today's day and age?"

Cassiopeia gave her a stern look and Hermione was quiet again. "Most definitely. A contract protects the interests of both parties involved. It is as much a safety net for you as it is for the wizard you engage in a relationship with. For instance, any jewelry or family heirlooms given to you must be returned in their original condition if the courtship is broken. In turn, although carnal relations are usually prohibited in a courtship, if you were to become pregnant with the child of the wizard you entered into a formal courtship with, he would be obliged to provide for both you and the child financially, regardless of the outcome of the relationship."

Hermione blanched. "Is all this really necessary?"

"Entirely necessary. For your dignity as much as the man's. Or do unwed teenage mothers receive a more advantageous position in society where you come from?"

Hermione cowed beneath her harsh gaze and resolved to be silent.

"Now, there are some addendums I am sure they will include in the contract. The first, will be a blood test and a copy of your family tree to prove you are a pureblood witch and are the legitimate child of a respectable family. We will need to get a forgery drawn up for you and obtain a blood sample from a pureblood witch. I also suspect that both Rosier and Lestrange will insist on a fertility test as well. We can forge that if needed too. Now, there are two types of formal courtships: closed and open. A closed courtship means the parties will only see each other exclusively. Neither party may engage in another courtship, whether formal or informal. An open courtship allows either party to engage in another courtship concurrently. Clauses may be added to specify whether or not formal or informal courtships are allowable for the other party. But you must also be aware that this is a binding magical contract. Once entered into it, there are severe consequences for breaking the terms, including the forfeiture of your dowry to the wronged party."

Hermione winced. "I don't actually have a dowry."

"Yes, you do. I set one up in your name here at Gringotts. It isn't exceptionally substantial, but accumulating wealth is not what either of these men will be most interested in, so it is of little consequence. What they will be interested in is making certain their partner can provide an heir. It is imperative that when we enter into negotiations, we insist on your partner getting tested for diseases and bloodborne curses as well. It is not uncommon for a man to engage in carnal relations before marriage, but I'm afraid women are still expected to enter into these agreements with their maidenhead intact. Are you a virgin?"

It took Hermione several long moments of blinking stupidly before she responded. "Yes."

Cassiopeia nodded and sipped her tea again. "Good. I'm afraid that is not something we can find a forgery for. Now, like I said, there are terms in courtship contracts forbidding carnal relations before a marriage, but obviously those terms are not always kept as young people will behave as they do. That being said, it is important that when you enter into a contract you are representing yourself accurately. You may not engage in carnal relations prior to signing the contract. Because you are an orphan, you may appoint a temporary guardian to sign on your behalf."

"Will you do it?"

"Of course," Cassiopeia said with a smile. "I will help negotiate the terms of the contract and help you navigate the social expectations for the courtship."

Hermione nodded and listened intently as Cassiopeia spoke at length about some of the particulars and certain questions she ought to ask about when they meet with both the Lestrange family and the Rosier family.

By the end of their discussion Hermione was fighting back tears of gratitude. "Are you really sure you want to do all this, for me? I mean, a dowry, forging illegal documents... this is so much to ask."

Cassiopeia tilted her head and smiled at Hermione. "Of course I'm sure. And you don't need to ask. I'm offering to help you. I really do care for you, Hermione. You are very dear to me. I love you as if you were my own flesh and blood. It is my pleasure to help you."

Hermione hugged Cassiopeia and cried rather embarrassingly in her gratitude for all that Cassiopeia had done to help her. "I can never repay you."

"Don't be silly, dear. You already have. I have not been this happy in decades. And besides, I am being a bit selfish too. I know that Narcissa is pregnant once again because you encouraged her to keep trying. And it brings me great joy to see her excitement grow. Plus, I'm still holding out hope that my stupid nephew will throw his hat in the race as well."

Hermione hiccuped, and blinked away tears in surprise.

"Oh, come now, I've told you before how much it means to me to see that boy smile."

* * *

Cassiopeia and Hermione met with Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange at a very expensive restaurant in Knockturn Alley that Friday evening. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief that Bellatrix had not come along as well. Rodolphus, despite wearing a formal outfit, seemed to be barely sober enough to get his fork into his own mouth.

"Hermione," Rabastan said to her as they finished the meal and waited for dessert. "If I may be so bold, you have bewitched me since our first meeting and I have grown very fond of you and our budding friendship. I would be remiss if I did not say I would like to have a much closer relationship with you, which is why I have brought my brother here as the head of my household to inquire if you would do me the honor of entering into a formal courtship with me?"

He took her hand and Hermione blushed and held her other hand to her chest. "Oh Rab, that is so sweet of you to offer. Truly, I am very touched. I have come to care for you a great deal as well and I would be quite open to arranging a formal courtship with you."

Rabastan beamed and turned to his brother. "That's wonderful to hear."

"I must say, though, that I am not quite familiar with formal courtships in Britain. Would you allow me to invite Cassiopeia as my temporary guardian to help facilitate the negotiations?"

"Of course," Rab said, patting her hand and flashing a charming smile at Cassiopeia.

The smile she returned to him did not reach her eyes. "Yes, I would be honored to assist Miss Krum."

"Excellent. Shall we begin negotiations?" Rodolphus said, a bit more sober than when they had started the meal and plainly irritated by it.

"Yes, let's discuss the initial draft and terms tonight and meet again in a few days after we've had time to collect all necessary documentation," Cassiopeia stated.

"Good. Now let's begin. What type of formal courtship are you interested in, Miss Krum?"

"An open formal courtship, if you please, Rodolphus," Cassiopeia requested. He raised an eyebrow, his hand hovering over the parchment before him, clearly caught off guard.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, quite. I have received word from Mr. Rosier that he too is interested in engaging in a formal courtship with Miss Krum, and I would like her to keep her options open."

"Evan? Really?" Rab mused in surprise.

"The very same. I hope you aren't afraid of a little competition, Mr. Lestrange. My dear Hermione is a very desirable witch."

"I'm sure it will be no competition at all," Rab said quickly, affecting an air of haughty confidence as he flashed a grin at Hermione.

They entered into negotiations in full as dessert was brought out. Hermione was too nervous to do more than nibble at her chocolate torte as the negotiations brought up very personal subjects. Even though Cassiopeia had warned her, she was still surprised and a bit embarrassed about the casual tone with which they asked about her virginity, especially in such an open environment.

Rab gave her a reassuring smile that made her stomach turn. They discussed fertility testing as well, even though Hermione was secretly already aware that Rabastan had fathered a child with another witch.

The amount of the dowry was never discussed, but Cassiopeia wrote down a number and slid it across the table. Rodolphus nodded at it and slid it back to her before scribbling something on the parchment. Hermione felt thoroughly naked in the middle of the restaurant as they discussed terms for nearly an hour.

Hermione was quite thankful when Evan invited them to his home for dinner, as it allowed them to discuss terms in a more private setting with only Evan and his mother, Fiona. Still, Hermione was mortified when Fiona asked if she was a virgin and if she would be willing to take a fertility test.

Once the contracts were drafted each party received a copy to review and change if needed. Hermione carefully reviewed these documents with Cassiopeia who explained some of the more technical parts of the contract.

Hermione went to St. Mungo's to visit a healer who performed the inspection to verify that she was still a virgin and the fertility test. Hermione took the copies of her test results confirming her virginity and fertility. At least that was one test that didn't have to be forged. Hermione used a small blood blister pouch of her own design to take the blood purity test, which worked and gave her a positive result.

Once the humiliation of testing was over, Hermione and Cassiopeia sat down to review the terms, forged documents, and addendums. Then they met again with the Rosiers and the Lestranges to finalize the contracts.

It was a peculiar experience for Hermione, who was learning a great deal about wizarding culture and ideals of pureblood high society. She had not expected a part of the signing to include a kiss with the opposite party to seal the magic; something Cassiopeia had neglected to tell her prior to Rab planting a big wet one on her. Evan was more polite with a perfunctory chaste kiss on her lips. Luckily, Hermione had a sneaking suspicion he was just as uncomfortable kissing her in front of his mother as she was, and it was a much briefer event.

By the end of November she had officially entered into open courtships with two men and at the end of the day after she had signed and sealed both contracts with a kiss, she lay down in her bed and stared at the ceiling all night long, panicking over what she had just done.

* * *

Cassiopeia called on Walburga for tea at Grimmauld Place the morning after the announcements were made in the _Daily Prophet_, listing Hermione's courtships with both Rabastan Lestrange and Evan Rosier.

She sipped her tea and waited for Walburga to ask. "Why are you here?"

Cassiopeia smiled. Her niece never failed to disappoint. She could always be counted on for her rudeness. "I'd like to propose an idea. As I'm sure you have read in this morning's paper, my charge, Miss Krum, has entered into two formal open courtships with both Rabastan Lestrange and Evan Rosier." She passed the copy of the paper she had brought with her to Walburga. "I helped negotiate her contract. She is a pureblood witch of good standing, with appropriate parentage and a fine dowry. She is also fertile and a virgin."

"Not for long if she's with Lestrange," Walburga said vindictively.

"Miss Krum is also a talented witch who has a Seer's gift."

"A party trick. Simple guesswork and eavesdropping. Nothing more."

"I am not so certain it is just a party trick. I spoke with Charis Burbag-Hill from St. Mungo's just last week. She let slip that Narcissa is pregnant again," she said meaningfully.

"Narcissa has been pregnant before. It does not mean she will have a baby."

"True. True. But according to Charis she is doing quite well as she moves into her third month. There is a possibility that it may happen. New Black blood may be born next year."

Walburga narrowed her eyes. "And I take it you have brought this to my attention because you want me to speak to my son about entering into a formal courtship with this foreign witch?"

"Perhaps it has escaped your notice, Walburga, but Regulus seems to very much enjoy her company. Would it be such a terrible thing to suggest?"

Walburga sipped the tea in her cup, contemplating. "And the fertility test results were good?"

"Yes. Perhaps Narcissa will not be the only one to whom new Black blood is born."

There was a moment of silence and then Walburga said, "I will discuss it with Orion this evening."

* * *

Regulus had not heard a word of the meeting he was sitting in on. He had read and reread the announcements in the _Daily Prophet_ so many times over that he could recite them verbatim. Not that it was a particularly difficult thing to do with so few lines, but it was like they were seared into his brain.

She had not told him about the courtships with either Rabastan or Evan. She hadn't given him any warning. And after that kiss they had shared he thought there might be something between them. He tried to convince himself that she had done it to try and discover the whereabouts of the cup, but that didn't explain why she would enter into a courtship with Evan Rosier as well as Rabastan Lestrange if the Lestranges were the ones tasked with hiding the cup. _Did she actually have feelings for Evan?_ The coiled snake in his chest made him uncertain. Perhaps he had misread her. But no, Hermione was smart and she undoubtedly had a plan. He pulled the coin out of his pocket and tapped it with his wand to inscribe a message: _Tonight. Same time. Same place_.

* * *

That night he waited for her on the beach, leaning against the ink-stained stone with the pulsing balls of light hovering around him. Hermione arrived in her violet silk dress; the same one she had worn last time they had been here on the beach. The one she had been wearing when he had kissed her.

He kept his face neutral as she approached.

"Regulus-"

"I hear congratulations are in order." He regretted it the moment he had said it, but the bitterness had risen in him and burst forth before he could stop it.

Hermione froze in her tracks as if he had struck her. "Regulus, I wanted to tell you-"

"But you couldn't? I got to find out from the _Daily Prophet_ that you are officially involved in formal courtships with both _Rabastan Lestrange and Evan Rosier?!_ Hermione, what were you thinking?! Do you realize how dangerous that is?"

"Of course it's dangerous! Regulus, we're hunting _horcruxes_. Everything about this is dangerous and risky. But being involved in a formal courtship with them will help our mission. I can learn their secrets and search their homes and find out what we need to know in order to stop Voldemort."

"But why _both_ of them? I thought you said the Lestranges were the ones who had it. Why are you involved with Rosier too?"

"Because I can pit them against each other to find out more information. Rosier has told secrets about the Lestrange family already."

"_I_ can tell you secrets about the Lestrange family! Do you want to know what happens to witches they want? They take them. They put them under the imperius curse and use them until they're done with them and then they _kill _them."

"That was a long time ago. And look, I'm clearly not under the imperius curse."

"Prove that you aren't."

Hermione took a defiant step towards him. "My name is Hermione Granger. I am a mudblood hunting down horcruxes to defeat Voldemort. And this spot right here is where you destroyed the diary. And this spot where we're standing is where you kissed me afterwards." Her voice broke and she fell silent, tearing her eyes away from his.

"Hermione, I'm worried about you. Why didn't you tell me about what you were planning?"

"Because you would have tried to talk me out of it. And we need to know where the cup is. This _can _work."

"You still should have told me. You don't understand what pureblood courtships are like, Hermione. There are rules that are made to be broken and trickery you have to watch out for and a thousand social customs you won't understand."

"Cassiopeia has been helping me with what I don't know. And once I find out where the cup is, I'll break it off with both of them."

"_Hermione_," he said in a pained voice, running his hand through his hair. "You can't _just _break off a courtship like its nothing. Especially if you're seeing two men at the same time! I've never heard of a woman ending a courtship with both parties who were formally courting her."

"Well, I'll have a change of heart. Maybe move back to Bulgaria or come up with some other story."

"Hermione, it doesn't _work_ like that. There are complex spells at work with these kinds of contracts. You can't just leave it without ruining your reputation."

"That's ridiculous. I'm a free woman. I can make my own choices."

"Pureblood women _aren_'_t_ free, Hermione. They have a duty to carry on their lineage."

"Well it won't matter for long. Once I know what I need to know I'll break it off."

"What if you don't find out what you want to know? What if it takes months or years? Will you marry one of them if they ask, just to try and get the information?"

Hermione was quiet, staring down at her shoes. "It won't come to that. I'll leave if I have to."

"Hermione, what if they take advantage of you?"

"Regulus, _please_," her voice broke again as tears fell down her cheeks and she clutched her arms around herself.

Regret coursed through him and he stepped forward to pull her into his arms. "I'm sorry," he said into her hair. "I'm sorry for what I said. I worry about you. I just want you to be alright." He continued to mumble apologies and stroke her hair as she regained her breath. He wiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb as she sniffed. "It will be alright. I promise. I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you." And he bent his head to kiss her. Her lips were salty from her tears, but the sweetness of her kiss was still there.

She melted against him, snaking her arms up around his neck to pull herself closer, deeper.

Regulus hesitated a moment, unsure how he should respond. But his hands wrapped around her back and he held her tightly. His blood was on fire; he felt it burning him as it surged through his pounding heart. He didn't want to let go of her.

But she pulled back, gasping for breath a moment later. She stayed against him, resting her head on his shoulder, protected and safe in his arms. She knew it would not last. She knew he could not be there for her as she moved ahead with her part of the mission. But in the comforting darkness of the lonely beach she let herself bask in the false sense of security, knowing it would not last, and not caring. For an instant she lost herself in the scent and warmth of him.

* * *

Regulus waited for his father to finish reading his paper. He knew that the best time to get his father's attention would be at the breakfast table between his first and second cup of coffee, right after he finished the paper and pulled up his letters which Kreacher had sorted that morning.

Walburga cleared her throat in an irritated fashion and Orion set the paper down with a sigh. Then he turned to Regulus and sat up straighter in his chair. "Your mother and I have something we would like to discuss with you."

"I have something I wish to discuss with you as well, father."

Orion ignored the severe look he received from Walburga and nodded his head. "And I am willing to discuss other matters afterwards, but first let me say my piece."

Regulus nodded, setting down his fork and wiping his mouth on the napkin in his lap.

"Your mother and I have been discussing your future. As the heir to this family you are expected to carry on the Black family name. You have a good career ahead of you, a suitable fortune, lands and properties you will inherit in time, and the makings of a fine pureblood wizard. Now that you are of age and settled into your path, your mother and I believe it is time for you to find a suitable wife."

Regulus looked from his father to his mother, a sense of great fear rising within him. They had tried to set him up with several pureblood witches since he had left Hogwarts: Irene Selwyn, Alecto Carrow, and Cynthia Crabbe. Irene smoked constantly and was ten years older than him. Alecto was a Death Eater and a cruel one at that. She enjoyed torturing families with small children. He had flat out refused to meet her for the tea his mother had arranged. And Cynthia was as intelligent and attractive as a troll. He tried not to grimace at the thought, praying that his parents were not going to suggest what he was afraid they were going to suggest.

"Tell me, Regulus, what is your opinion of Miss Krum?"

His heart pounded in his chest, but he slipped on a neutral expression, taking a sip of water. After years of practice, he was good at concealing his true emotions from his parents. "She is a brilliant witch. And she comes from a respectable background."

"Do you find her attractive?"

"She is a beautiful young woman."

"Do you think she would make a suitable wife? Would she give you children?"

The way his father said it made his guts squirm in disgust. "I imagine she would be a suitable wife and mother."

Orion chewed on this, examining his son carefully.

"And what of her alleged gift of foresight? Do you believe she is actually a true seer?" Walburga asked, her hawkish gaze fixed upon him.

He chose his words carefully. "I would not bet against her. She has surprised me more than once with her knowledge of things she should not otherwise know."

"Narcissa is pregnant. Again. We'll see if this one lasts."

There it was. So delicately put by his dear mother. They suspected she might be a genuine seer: a rare gift amongst witches and wizards, but a highly valued one. It was also a trait that could be inherited and passed on through the bloodline. This was undoubtedly one of the major reasons why his mother must have come around on the idea of a foreign witch.

Silently, he thanked Hermione for her moment of rash bravado when she had met his parents. "Narcissa seems to be in good health. I saw her just the other day for tea."

"Naricissa's condition aside," Orion cut back in, "We believe Miss Krum may possess certain qualities and traits that would greatly benefit our family. Cassiopeia has informed us that she is a noble pureblood witch of suitable status. She is also young, fertile, and a virgin. We would like you to enter into a formal courtship with her. Your friendship and noble blood will give you an advantage over her other suitors."

This was how his father gave commands; by making them seem like suggestions. It took great effort not cringe when he heard his father talk about her like a broodmare.

Regulus nodded his head curtly. "I'm sure you are correct, father. I shall write to her this evening and arrange a meeting."

"You will write to her now," his mother ordered, summoning a quill, ink, and parchment. "Invite Cassiopeia and Miss Krum to dinner this evening. You will make the offer for a formal courtship then."

"Of course." He wrote two letters, one for Cassiopeia and one for Hermione. He sealed them with the Black family crest, his eyes lingering on the words of his house. _Toujours pur. Always pure_. If his parents knew the truth about Hermione they would never allow him to speak to her, much less court her.

"What was it you wanted to speak to me about?" his father asked once he had finished opening all his letters.

Regulus tied the letters to his owl, Rami, and released her out the window. There was little point in bringing up his desire to court Hermione now. "I was hoping we could go over the existing protections on the house: the charms that make it unplottable, secrecy spells, and the rest. I have concerns that our other properties may require more advanced protections from muggle filth and blood traitors."

* * *

Hermione and Cassiopeia arrived through the floo later that evening. Hermione had been smiling all day long, unable to contain her glee. As she stepped through the floo she looked at Regulus and the smile she wore fell from her face when she saw that he was not smiling at her. Orion and Walburga were making an effort, although Hermione thought Walburga's face might crack if she tried to actually smile. So this had not been his idea. Or even if it had been, it was not because he cared for her, but because his parents wanted him to court her. Cursing herself for her fanciful thoughts, she joined them at the dining table once again, seated directly across the table from Regulus, whom she could not force herself to look at as the first course soup was served.

Orion inquired into her new job working for a private firm that supported marginalized magical minorities, such as centaurs, merfolk, goblins, and other magical creatures. Her firm, Abbott, Millings, and Slathereshin, also represented orphaned children and did a great deal of pro bono work for the community. It was not the most prestigious law firm, but their work with the community was well supported and many families contributed to their charity events, including the Blacks.

Hermione told him about their most recent case representing a young girl who had been bitten by a vampire and forced to sign the ministry's registry and sent to a terrible facility while they waited to see if the girl would turn into a vampire herself. The poor thing had been left severely traumatized from the experience and the firm had argued for better treatment and facilities for the victims of vampire attacks. They had won the support of the court regarding the issue, including, much to Hermione's surprise, the support of Orion Black. Like his son, he felt it was the responsibility of all witches and wizards to protect their magical heritage and in turn the magical creatures that could not speak for themselves. Although according to another apprentice from her firm, he was not at all fond of goblins and often voted against pro-goblin measures introduced to the court. Still, as she talked to Orion about the issues brought up in the trial she couldn't help but feel like he was appraising her in more ways than one. He complimented her reasoning and told her she would make a fine partner to her firm. Hermione was not quite certain if that was genuine praise or an insult, but thanked him for the compliment regardless. She was quite proud of her work researching for that case, and found the job very fulfilling, which she mentioned to Orion.

Regulus did not say a word the entire time, instead he focused intently on his soup spoon.

"I've heard that you and Narcissa have become quite close," Walburga said, drawing Hermione's attention to the other end of the table.

"Yes, indeed. Narcissa has been quite kind to me and she has become one of my closest friends."

"It seems you have made good friendships with members of our family," Walburga replied, watching Hermione from over the rim of her wine glass.

"Yes. I owe a great deal to the generosity and compassion of the Black family," Hermione responded, smiling at Cassiopeia and at Regulus, who only glanced up at her for a moment before he returned his attention to his spoon.

"Indeed," Walburga added sharply, setting down her wine. "Have you spoken to Narcissa recently?"

"Yes, we had tea just last week in Diagon Alley."

"How is her health?"

Hermione resisted the urge to smirk: she knew where this was headed. "Oh, Narcissa is in excellent health and radiant as always. In fact, I would say she is positively _glowing_." The smirk tugged at her lip as Hermione sipped her water.

"Yes, I've heard Narcissa is expecting again. How far along is she?"

"About three months along."

"And is this the new Black blood that you foretold would be born next year?"

Hermione resisted the urge to smile. "I suppose only time will tell if what I've said comes to pass."

Walburga pursed her lips and frowned. "And tell me, Miss Krum, with your little party trick, have you foreseen anything else?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I would like to know if your _alleged_ gift of foresight is genuine and accurate."

"What would you like to know, Mrs. Black? Shall I tell you the child's name? The sex? Abilities and personality traits?" Walburga's lips turned into a sneer, but Hermione recovered. "It will be a boy. Draco Lucius Malfoy. Born around June, I should think. With white blonde hair, just like his father. And grey eyes, like his mother. He will be a brilliant, if not spoiled, little boy. Very clever and a fair flyer on a broom. If you ask me, he will get his best traits from the Black side of his family. And he will be particularly good at drawing."

All around her the other members of the room stared at her, their spoons still as they appraised her.

She caught Regulus's eye and saw the warning in his eyes, but she stuck her chin out defiantly, turning back to Walburga. "I know it will take a few months to find out for certain, but I am confident it will come to pass. Do keep what I've said a secret from anyone else, Narcissa especially. I want her son's name to be her choice."

Cassiopeia was the first to speak. "A son. How excellent. I'm sure Lucius will be thrilled."

"Yes, quite," said Walburga disinterestedly. She turned to face her son. "Regulus, is there something that you would like to ask Miss Krum?"

Regulus set down his spoon, wishing he could be anywhere else in the world rather than right at this table at this moment. "Yes, there is. Miss Krum, would you be willing to enter into a formal courtship with me?"

Hermione's heart dropped into her stomach like a stone into the ocean. His courtship proposal was even less romantic than Rabastan's. He had said it so straightforward, like he was asking to borrow a quill. Unclenching her jaw, she forced a polite smile onto her face and replied, "It would be my honor to enter into a formal courtship with the heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

Her words cut him and he felt a muscle in his jaw twitch at the slight.

"Excellent," Walburga said. "We shall discuss terms after dinner."

Hermione did not speak for the rest of the meal.

Cassiopeia pulled Hermione into the hallway while Regulus and his parents gathered the necessary materials to begin drafting the contract. "I had thought that this arrangement would make you happier, given your fondness for Regulus," Cassiopeia muttered in a low voice that would not carry.

"And so it would, if it had been his wish and not his parents'."

Cassiopeia gave her a harsh look. "_I_ was the one to convince Walburga of the match. Regulus _does_ care for you, but his mother is not going to be swayed to marry off her son because it would make him _happy_."

Hermione nodded, but did not feel any better later as she sat across from Regulus and his parents. Orion drafted most of the terms, which Hermione agreed to as Cassiopeia handed over her test results and the forged family tree. Walburga inspected the documents carefully before passing them to her husband to review. Hermione did not even bat an eye as Walburga asked her intimate details about her test results, even though the proof was written on the parchment she had just handed to her husband. She responded automatically, without emotion. When the terms were drawn up, Hermione and Cassiopeia reviewed their copy. "Would you like some time to review it before signing?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. The terms are agreeable and I am ready to sign now if you are, Regulus."

He nodded and signed the official document. His fingertips grazed hers as she accepted the quill from him and she paused for a moment at the gentle gesture before dipping the tip in the ink to sign herself.

"And now to seal it," Cassiopeia said with a smile.

Hermione smoothed her dress and stood, dreading every second of this as he rose as well. She tried not to grimace as he stepped forward, leaving as much space as he humanly could between them before lowering his face to hers to kiss her.

It was horrible. His lips barely touched hers before he pulled away from the chaste peck. Hermione wanted to die. She wanted a hole to open up in the floor and swallow her. Even Rabastan's kiss had been preferable to this I-would-only-kiss-my-grandmother-on-her-deathbed-this-way kiss. Hermione felt the color drain from her and she feared she might be sick as she stepped away from him. She blanched at the thought that now her _worst_ kiss was with Regulus, even compared to the shudder-inducing sloppy kisses of Cormac McLaggen she had had to endure at Slughorn's party during sixth year.

Orion handed her a copy of the official signed document. Hermione made to leave before Regulus caught her hand. "Would you like to accompany me on an outing next weekend? Saturday is my birthday. I would like it very much if you would help me celebrate." He squeezed her hand and the small gesture made her feel a bit better.

She turned to him and managed a small smile. "Of course. Will you write to me about the details?"

He nodded and escorted her over to the floo. There was a flash of green and a wave as she stepped into the flames with Cassiopeia, and just before she disappeared he saw her glance back at him sadly.

That night as she lay awake staring at the ceiling, Hermione slowly came around once her initial feelings of hurt dissipated. There was a great deal of sense in what he had done, even if it hadn't been a romantic gesture to enter into a formal courtship with her. It gave her an easy out if she had to abruptly end her courtships with Rabastan and Evan. And she knew it had been just as awkward for him to kiss her in front of his family as it had been for her. Not to mention it did give them an excuse to spend more time together as they searched for the horcruxes. She did her best however, to block out the memory of the kiss, preferring to linger on the other two she had shared with him on the beach.


	24. Chapter 24: Official Launch

**Chapter 24: Official Launch**

She met Regulus for his birthday at Kraken's Cove Cottage. He wore a nice suit, his sleek black hair was neatly combed as usual, and his face was freshly shaven. He sauntered over to her and with a bow presented her with a bouquet of red roses. Hermione pulled her thick woolen cloak tighter around herself in the cutting wind, hesitant to remove her hand from the warmth to take the flowers.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Roses, really? I thought it was _your_ birthday. Aren't I the one who's supposed to get you something?"

"It's tradition to present a woman with flowers on the first official date of a courtship."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but smiled at him as she took the bouquet. "Can we head inside? It's freezing out here."

"Of course," he said, casting a warming spell over them both as they headed into the cottage.

She set the bouquet in a vase in the middle of the table.

"I wanted to apologize for not giving you much warning about the offer of courtship."

"Was it your idea or your parents'?" she asked, starting a fire in the hearth with a flick of her wand.

"Technically both. I was planning to speak with them about it when my father suggested I pursue a courtship with you."

Hermione nodded. "Cassiopeia apparently suggested the idea to your mother."

He nodded, having assumed as much. "Your little gift of foresight is what won her over, I think."

"I had a feeling, given her line of questioning," Hermione said dryly, sitting on the couch after she hung up her cloak. Regulus sat next to her, still wearing his jacket. "How on earth are you comfortable in that?" she asked, glancing at his stiff tie and pressed black jacket.

"It's not as bad as you'd think."

"You know you're allowed to be comfortable around me, right?"

"I am comfortable."

"You don't look it," she mused.

He cracked a smile and relented, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it up next to her cloak. He loosened his tie too and unbuttoned his shirt sleeves before rolling them up his arms, exposing the dark mark against his pale skin. "Better?" he asked with a wry grin.

Hermione shrugged, but secretly liked the look of him with a bit of exposed skin instead of the tailored stuffiness of the suit.

"I know we didn't talk about it, but I felt like this was an easy way of giving you an out in case you need it."

"I realized that. I'm sorry for how I acted."

"It really wasn't the most romantic of courtship offers."

"It really wasn't," she agreed, and they both chuckled. "At least we'll be able to see each other more often."

"And without supervision," Regulus remarked. When Hermione gave him a questioning look he patted the empty pocket on his vest where he usually kept a portrait. "With the contract in place we're allowed to be alone together unchaperoned."

"Oh. I didn't realize that was a part of it. Are we... are we allowed to be alone together here? Or is that considered improper?"

"Here?" he said pointing around them at the cottage. "Oh, it's terribly inappropriate. We're really not supposed to be together outside of the public eye, especially in the beginning. Which is why I told my parents I was taking you to the beach."

"The beach? In December?"

"I didn't think they would believe me if I told them I was taking you ice skating."

Hermione laughed and rolled her eyes. "Why is the beach better?"

"Because I can take you flying at the beach. That's where I've told my parents we have our flying lessons."

She nodded her head in understanding and pulled out her bag. "Well, that's excellent, because it gives us the perfect opportunity for you to try out your present," she said, opening her bag and pulling out the long cylindrical and obvious package.

His eyes widened as he took the package from her, holding it in his hands. It seemed to hum beneath his touch. "Hermione…" he said, looking back up at her bewildered.

"Oh, go on now. Open it."

He peeled back the paper.

"Now, I'm afraid I might have to keep it hidden for you, because technically it won't be made for another fifteen years. It was Harry's broom, one that Sirius had bought for him. I thought you might like to have it." She felt a twinge of guilt giving it to him, but it vanished when she saw how happy it made him.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She nodded confidently as he turned the broom over in his hands. "It's a firebolt. It's the best model available in my time. Viktor rode one during the World Cup."

"Have you ever tried it out?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "Only the once, really. I had to use it to get you out of the cave."

He raised an eyebrow in surprise and Hermione was thankful he had been unconscious for that part, as her flying had been truly awful, even with such a decent broom.

"So technically I've already ridden it?" he asked.

"Well, you've been tied to it. I don't really think that counts though," she said with a laugh.

"You must be quite awful on a broom."

Hermione nodded. "_Quite_ terrible. It's a miracle we're both still alive, really."

A grin slowly spread across his cheeks. "I know what I want to do for my birthday." He raised his eyebrows at her and her stomach dropped.

"Oh, come on now, can't I just watch you have a go?"

He shook his head, standing over her and offering her his hand.

She followed him outside after they grabbed their jackets and cloaks.

He offered her his arm and a moment later they had apparated to a familiar valley. It was covered in a light layer of snow, but Hermione recognized it as the place where he had taken her after Slughorn's party.

He stepped a few feet away from her and mounted the broom. "Is it alright if I get a feel for it before I take you up?"

"Take all the time you need," she said, grinning as he kicked off from the ground.

The broom handled like a dream. Regulus soared through the air like a falcon in flight. The rush of the wind in his ears was a relief to hear once more. He had missed the sensation of the cold pricking at his cheeks during a long winter's day of practice. Lowering himself over the handle, he pulled into a dive, speeding faster than he had ever gone in his life, skimming along the wind, relishing in the thrill. The broom seemed to react to his lightest touch and the flight was so smooth as he coasted off his momentum. The firebolt put his old broom to shame with its agile grace.

Once he felt confident that he had mastered the broom and its movements, he circled back down to the ground and landed delicately before her. He was positively beaming as he dismounted.

"Well? What do you think?" she asked, wearing a coy grin.

"I think it's the most amazing broom I've ever flown on in my entire life." He clutched it in his hand and lifted her chin to kiss her. The kiss was filled with excitement and passion and her lips tasted ever so slightly of cherries. When he pulled away she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled herself back to recapture his lips in hers. Her enthusiasm sent a rush of heat coursing through his limbs. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply. A minute later he broke away, panting heavily and shaking his head. "You clever little minx. You're trying to delay your ride."

Hermione blushed in embarrassment, but didn't deny it. "I was enjoying myself," she teased, pushing herself up on her toes to kiss his lips again.

Reluctantly, he pulled away again and stepped out of her reach. He mounted the broom again and extended his hand to her. "Well, come on now."

"Regulus, do I really have to? I told you, I'm awful on a broom."

"Yes, you do. It's my birthday: humor me. I promise you'll be perfectly safe."

"I have a very bad fear of heights."

"Hermione, it's perfectly safe. I'm right here with you."

She frowned in worry as she mounted the broom behind him.

"Hold onto me," he said, wrapping her arms around him.

She clutched him with a vice-like grip.

"I'm still going to need to be able to breathe," he said, and she loosened her grip ever so slightly.

He kicked off, but stayed close to the ground, only hovering five feet or so above the snow. "Hermione, you can open your eyes."

"They are open."

"_Hermione_," he chided.

"Oh, alright." She glanced around as he zigzagged over the frosty meadow at a relatively slow speed. He leaned to the side and Hermione squeaked as his fingers brushed the snowy surface, gathering up a handful of snow which he tossed in the air above their heads, making Hermione giggle. He felt her relax little by little as they flew around the boulder and the tree where they had talked and sat in silence that one summer evening.

Keeping them low, he circled lazily around the frozen pond on the other side of the hill where several geese paid them only the slightest bit of attention as they drifted in a section of the pond that had yet to freeze. Hermione rested her head against his shoulder as he flew around the valley in figure eights for a while before setting back down. Regulus cast a warming charm around them both and Hermione wiped at her eyes where the cold wind had made her tear up.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I thought you were going to try and take me up high."

"Well it's not wise to throw a person afraid of water into the middle of a lake. I wasn't going to take you up beyond your comfort level."

"How very gentlemanly of you."

He managed a small grin and held out the broom. "Now it's your turn. I want to see how you fly solo."

"Oh, no, Regulus, really. I'm not joking when I say I'm awful. Trust me, it isn't false modesty."

"Oh, I believe you. But my parents also think I've been teaching you to fly so if you can't do it at all it will look like we haven't been practicing at all and they'll get suspicious."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "That sounds a little far-fetched, but _fine_. I'll give it a go. Just remember I told you this was a bad idea to begin with." She took the broom in hand and swung her leg over, thankful that she had worn pants today and not a dress. Gripping the broom tightly in her hands she bit her lip and pushed off the ground nervously. The broom bucked and she let out a sharp squeak.

"I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave? I don't think I've ever seen anyone so afraid of a broom in my life," he commented, folding his arms across his chest as he watched her take long, slow breaths and direct the broom once around the tree before she touched back down and dismounted.

"I am a Gryffindor. And I am brave. I'm just not reckless."

"Spoken like a true Ravenclaw."

She pulled her wand from her pocket and flicked it at the branch over his head: there was a whooshing sound as the snow in its branches dropped on top of him. He shook his head and squirmed, shaking out his clothes as she giggled.

"That was very Slytherin of you," he said, flicking his own wand out from his coat and sending a snowball at her.

She squeaked again and dived into the snow to avoid it, laughing and shivering as she came back up with snow coating her woolen coat.

They continued their snowball fight for several minutes, laughing and taunting one another as they bewitched their snowballs to follow each other as they ran around. Hermione ducked behind the tree as one of his exploded in a powdery puff before dodging and tackling him to the ground.

Regulus, who had been expecting her to use her wand, was completely surprised when she wrapped her arms around his middle and pulled him to the ground with her. He groaned as he landed hard on a heap of snow. A huge handful of snow landed on his face and he shook his head like a dog, sucking in air through his teeth as he hissed in discomfort from the icy chill. "I surrender!" he said, throwing up his hands.

Hermione smiled above him in triumph before removing her glove to wipe away snow from his face. Then she bowed her head and kissed him again.

Regulus forgot about the ice crystals melting against his skin as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Are you ready for your next surprise?" she asked after breaking the kiss.

Sitting up, he leaned in once more to kiss her. Quite frankly, he was enjoying the moment here, kissing her; he did not want to leave.

"You _will_ have to change first, I'm afraid," she said, pulling out a parcel.

After a quick stop back at the cottage to change they apparated down a side street of muggle London. Regulus kept commenting on the muggle clothing she had bought for him: a grey sweater of soft wool and a pair of jeans. He found them to be remarkably comfortable, which Hermione was glad to hear.

They walked past a fish and chip stand where they stopped for lunch at Regulus's behest before Hermione pulled him along to his surprise destination. "A muggle museum?" he asked, surprised. "Yes. I think you'll like it. This museum houses the history of muggle aviation and space exploration. Come on!"

They entered the museum and Hermione watched his expression of astonishment at the actual airplane suspended by wires above their heads. Regulus spent a long time going through the museum: he stopped to read every placard and examine every display with rapt attention. Hermione couldn't help but smile as he examined the small models of B-52s with the same excited energy as the young children around him. He even picked one boy up when he couldn't see the models on the top shelf of a display cabinet, which struck Hermione: she had never seen him interact much with children before.

As they passed through rooms with historical displays from World War I and II his face took on a somber expression that lingered after they left. "Are you alright?" she asked cautiously before they moved on to the next room.

"It makes me sad to think that muggles are just as good at developing methods for mass murder as wizards are. They don't need wands when they have guns and bombs. It was one of the largest draws for witches and wizards back when Grindlewald was gaining power. Muggles were suddenly a much greater threat than they ever had been before."

"I had a grandfather who died in World War II. He was a pilot in the Royal Air Force. His plane was shot down. My grandmother never remarried afterwards. She said she lost the love of her life."

"Cassiopeia was engaged to a wizard who was killed by an air raid."

Hermione froze, stunned. "She never told me that."

"She doesn't talk about it much. Most people who lived through the war don't. She also worked as a healer, so she saw a lot of terrible things that both sides did to each other."

Hermione opened her mouth to ask what side she worked for, but decided against it. She didn't want to know.

They moved into the section on space exploration and Regulus was like a kid in a candy shop. He pored over the charts and images and looked through every single telescope they had displayed. He examined all the switches and buttons of a replica of the interior of a rocket, asking Hermione questions about how they worked with electric currents to power the different parts. They lay back in chairs and watched a projected display in the museum's planetarium, and she had to tell Regulus he wasn't supposed to talk when he pointed to the planets and constellations and started to name them. A small group of children gathered around him in the astronomy room as he told the myths behind several of the constellations to Hermione. He grew more animated as the kids listened to him, gasping at certain parts in the stories, hooked on his every word.

As they exited the museum with no less than seven souvenirs and four books, Hermione was pleased he had thoroughly enjoyed the adventure. The next place she brought him to was a record shop. She explained how it worked when they were handed pairs of headsets and she showed him how to plug in the audio jack. Regulus was bewildered at the sounds from many of the newer bands Hermione picked out for him, but did not find them completely unpleasant. He even walked out with a few new records after they had spent some time in the store.

For dinner they ate curry at a small restaurant around the corner from the record shop and Regulus was thoroughly impressed by the peppery spices and dramatic flavors of the curry.

It started to snow outside as they walked along the streets, with no particular destination in mind. Regulus summoned his courage and offered her his hand, which she accepted.

"Can I ask you something... personal?" Hermione asked, turning to him.

He nodded. "Have you... dated or courted anyone before?"

He raised an eyebrow at her and she blushed, glancing away, embarrassed. "Um, not really, no. My parents have tried to set me up with a few people, but those never last more than a date or two. There was a Ravenclaw girl I had a crush on for a while at Hogwarts. Her name was Katarina Donoghue. She was my first kiss and we went to Hogsmeade together once. But it didn't last."

"Why not?"

"She was a half-blood. My parents forbade me from seeing her again. You would have liked her, I think. She wanted to abolish the four houses at Hogwarts. She had a petition going around the school to gather signatures. She said it caused detrimental harm to divide the students into factions instead of presenting a united front as one school."

"Did you sign her petition?"

"I did. So did Sirius. A lot of students did, actually. Not many Slytherins. And not many from old families who take a great deal of pride in their ancestry's house."

"I suppose it didn't work out?" Hermione guessed, considering the separate houses still existed in her time.

"That's hard to say. It might have worked. She certainly gained a lot of signatures. But her father, who was muggleborn, was killed by Death Eaters. Her mother took her out of school and moved the rest of their family out of the country."

"I'm so sorry."

Regulus was quiet, mulling over his thoughts.

"Did you love her?" she asked hesitantly.

He shrugged. "I'm not really sure. It was short-lived. I didn't ask what her background was because I was afraid to know. But once my family found out, it was over." He was quiet again, tilting his head up to look at the falling snow. "What about you? I know you and your friend Ron had a complicated relationship, and you dated a world famous quidditch player who was also a triwizard champion. Any other relationships?"

Hermione cringed. "Sort of. I asked Cormac Mclaggen, he was a year above me in Gryffindor, to go to Slughorn's Christmas party to make Ron jealous. He mostly talked about quidditch and all he wanted to do was snog." She told him about confunding him during the quidditch tryouts.

Regulus chuckled and Hermione rounded on him.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just, you seem to have a type. For someone who claims to hate flying, you sure do like your quidditch players."

"I do not!"

He laughed. "It's okay. Lots of girls go for the athletes. There's nothing wrong with it."

"Oh, and I suppose girls threw themselves at you, _Mr. Star-Quidditch-Player?_"

"One or two of them did. And a guy from Hufflepuff."

Hermione was still irritated, particularly because he had a point. "Did Evan and Rabastan play quidditch too?"

"Chaser and beater."

Hermione groaned and Regulus covered his mouth to hide the worst of his laughter. She shot him a look of annoyance, but he smiled at her good-naturedly and they returned to other topics of conversation.

As it grew late Regulus returned her to Cassopeia's townhouse. She lingered on the front step, fiddling with her key. "I hope you had a nice birthday," she said, taking a step closer to him and kissing his lips. Tingling butterflies filled her stomach. She was beginning to crave his kisses. As she broke away she bid him good night.

"Hermione," he said quietly, his hands in his pockets.

She turned back, her hand on the door.

"This courtship between us... it doesn't have to be for the mission. It could be real, if you want it to be."

For once, no words came to her. She stood there, her chest rising and falling as she looked into his eyes. He meant it. Before she realized what she was doing she closed the distance between them and threw her arms around him, kissing him deeply. She gasped as they broke apart.

"Is that a yes?" he smiled and she kissed him again, drawing herself up on her tiptoes and cupping his sharp jawline in her hands, relishing in the touch of his skin beneath her fingertips.

"Yes," she managed, finally. "Yes, I would like that, Regulus."

He grinned his private smile and kissed the back of her hand before bidding her good night.

* * *

An owl tapped on Regulus's bedroom window in the middle of the night. He crossed the room and opened the window. The owl swooped in overhead and dropped the letter before flying right back out again, clearly eager to return home out of the chilly winter air. Regulus picked up the envelope and cracked the green seal of the Rosier family. When he opened it, the page was mostly empty. It read: _We need to talk. A gentleman's meeting at Rosier Manor tomorrow night at midnight._

* * *

Regulus sat in the chair Evan offered him, accepting the glass of brandy he poured, but setting it aside on the table. Rabastan Lestrange was already there. He greeted Regulus with a curt nod, swirling the brandy around in his glass.

"Thank you for coming. I figured since the dust has settled we should talk about our predicament and find a common understanding," Evan said with a polite smile.

"About Miss Krum? Isn't all fair in love and war, gentlemen?" Rabastan said, leaning forward with a confident smirk.

"That is precisely why I have called this meeting. We are still on the same side of this war we are waging. We are marked brothers in arms. I don't want any animosity over this courtship battle to interfere with our work for the Dark Lord." He raised his glass and drank and the other two followed suit. "I also want to establish some ground rules."

"Such as?" Rabastan drawled.

"No sabotaging each other. Courtship competitions can become vicious if that is the case. I have invited you both here into my home so that we may speak and behave as civilized men as we break bread together."

"This is only brandy," Rabastan replied dryly.

"And it shall suffice unless you would rather I break the bottle over your head, Rab," Evan warned. "I am calling for civility, but it does not mean I am unwilling to play this dirty."

Rab snorted and leaned back in his seat. "Fine. No sabotaging. No killing either. She might be a lovely prize, but I still value my life more than her."

"Yes, no killing each other," Evan replied. "Obviously we don't want to deplete the Dark Lord's forces or eliminate decent pureblood from society. No excessive spending either. I don't want to see this turn into a bidding war where we all end up penniless. And Rab," Evan turned to him, frowning. "You are not to bed any other women while you are involved with Hermione. Stay out of the Lusty Leprechaun and away from your whores. I don't want to catch whatever diseases you have."

Rab sneered. "Who else is going to drag my brother out of there? You willing to do it, Evan? Because I'd love to see that."

Evan returned his sneer.

"You'll both keep it in your pants if you know what's good for you." Evan and Rab turned to Regulus as if they had just remembered he was there. "Some of our families keep to the old ways. The man who takes a woman's maidenhead is more likely to have a son as their first child. And I am certain all of us are interested in providing an heir to carry on our family name."

"Spoken like a true virgin, Reg. Have you _even had_ a woman?"

"He's right, Rab. Frankly, I don't like your family's history with witches. No using magic to seduce Miss Krum into your beds."

"And if she wants me to take her into my bed? Or on the table? Or the floor?"

Regulus dug his nails into the leather of the chair.

"Then that is her choice. I see no reason to deny her if she seeks out any of us to give her pleasure. But it will not be done by force," Evan growled, glowering at Rab.

"I am not my grandfather, Evan. You have no need to worry."

"Since you've already defiled one witch outside of a formal courtship, I think there is very good cause to worry about you, Rab."

"Watch yourself, Evan," Rab said menacingly, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Stop your barking, both of you."

Rab held up his hand and counted off the agreements on his fingers. "No killing, no sabotage, no reckless spending, no fucking other women, and we can only fuck her if she wants to be fucked. Anything else?"

"Keep things quiet. None of us wants the Dark Lord to take an interest in our private affairs. This doesn't interfere with our work for him."

They all nodded in agreement.

"Protect her in general. Our line of work is not a safe one, as you well know. And Rab..."

He turned to look at Regulus.

"Keep Bellatrix away from her. If she so much as touches a single hair on her head, I'll kill you."

"Careful, Reg. We both know she gets her madness from _your_ family's blood. We'll be keeping an eye on _you_ as well."

Regulus narrowed his eyes at Rab before turning to Evan. "Are we done?"

"Yes. Shake on it." Evan extended his left hand, rolling back his sleeve to reveal the mark. Regulus did the same and shook his hand and then Rab's. The other two shook, glaring at each other like venomous snakes.

"Let the games begin," Evan said, finishing off his brandy and setting down the empty glass before them.


	25. Chapter 25: First Dates

**Chapter 25: First Dates**

Hermione had to take a calming draught prior to meeting Evan for their date. He had wanted it to be a surprise, carrying a blue box under his arm wrapped in a bow, and Hermione was absolutely terrified. She suspected it would mean something dangerous or nerve-wracking, but when she opened her eyes after he apparated them and saw two dozen people out on a frozen lake, spinning and racing across the sparkling crystal surface on enchanted skates, she let out a pleasant gasp of surprise.

"I thought it would be a nice day for it," he said warmly, leading her down to the surface. He opened the box for her, which contained a set of brand new white skates. He pulled out a pair of black skates for himself as well and laced them up with a wave of his wand. Hermione's pair fit her like a glove, magically molding themselves to fit her comfortably, with a proper amount of flex for movement.

Evan helped her out onto the ice as she took careful baby steps in the new skates. "Are you alright? You're clinging on to me awfully tight," he grinned, perfectly balanced on the ice himself.

"I'm downright awful on skates. I have a feeling the instant I let go I'm going to fall."

"Don't worry. I'll be right here to catch you."

Hermione scoffed, tightening her grip as she lost her balance for a moment. "I'm afraid I'll just end up taking you with me," she murmured, staring down at her feet.

Evan just grinned. "Stop looking at your feet. Look at me."

The words sounded so much like the same ones she heard from Regulus the first time they had danced that she was caught off guard, lost in the memory for a brief moment that she lost her balance and slipped, falling straight into Evan's chest.

He caught her and steadied her, chuckling as he straightened back up. "Looks like I have my work cut out for me," he chimed, supporting her as she found her balance once again.

"Oh, you have no idea."

Hermione fell no less than eleven times. Nine of those times Evan was quick enough to catch her before she hit the ice, but once she was on her own and a young child came from behind her and startled her and she had landed hard on her bottom. The other time she was starting to get the hang of moving on her own, but she didn't know how to slow down and had barreled into Evan on accident, sending them both crashing to the ground.

"I'm so sorry! Evan, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I think only my pride is wounded," he said with a wincing grin. "Oh, no, I definitely bruised something."

A look of concern flashed over her face as she leaned over him. "Where does it hurt?"

"Here," he said, tapping his cheek and giving her a wolfish grin.

She rolled her eyes at him, then lowered herself over him and kissed his cheek with a soft peck. "Better now?"

He smiled at her in satisfaction. "Much better." Rising to his feet, he lifted her gloved hand to his lips and kissed it. "You are a wonderful healer," he praised.

A while later they stepped off the ice, Hermione wincing from her many bruises, but unable to keep the smile from her face as she sat with Evan holding a cup of tea from a little cart nearby. As she sipped her warm drink she watched a group of children chasing after one another, throwing a stuffed toy quaffle around in the air.

"They're adorable, aren't they?" Evan commented cheerily as one of the boys missed a shot into the hoop that was off to the side, five feet off the ground.

"They are." Hermione giggled as one of the girls snatched the ball out of the air at the last moment before it entered the hoop, causing a collective groan from the other side of players.

"Do you want one?"

"What?"

His golden hair caught the light as he raised his chin, gesturing at the children zooming around on the ice. "A child."

"I don't think the children can just be picked up like library books, Evan. I'm pretty sure their parents would object."

He chuckled and shook his head, sipping his cup of chamomile tea. "You're probably right. But I think you know what I really meant. Do you want one of your own?"

Hermione blushed and stared down into the contents of her cup. She had known the subject of children would be discussed at some point in the relationship, but she had hoped it would come later rather than sooner. Of course, courtship was designed to make alliances through marriage to produce heirs, but it was still a delicate subject that Hermione had wanted to put off. Clearly that would not be the case.

Tucking a curl behind her ear, she said, "I do. I would really like a child or two when I'm ready. But I still want to build my career first."

"I understand. And how are you liking your work at your firm?"

Several minutes passed as Hermione shared her experiences so far at the firm, telling him how nice and helpful everyone was, and even griping a bit about the way she was treated as the underling in the office.

Evan admitted that he had been a bit disappointed when she had not taken the job offer his firm had made, but was glad to hear that she found her work fulfilling, admitting that although his type of law was lucrative, he often had to work with clients he did not fully support.

Hermione listened intently, curious to know more about him as he explained some of the old-fashioned views of some of the existing clientele he worked with. "Giving ghosts property rights, I mean, _really_! Move on and leave your favorite goblin-made sword to your son. It's not like a ghost has any need for a sword. They can't even pick up physical objects!"

She found that she liked listening to most of his stories and he didn't express anti-muggle or anti-muggleborn sentiment in front of her. Although, she did notice that in the streets or shops people often gave them a wide berth and mothers hid their children behind them as they passed.

He liked to discuss poetry and took her to Flourish and Blotts later that day after she told him she had never heard of Geram Graff and Melissandine of Forbinshire. She walked out of the bookstore will several collections of poetry.

As she soon discovered from Evan's letters, certain charms could be used to imbue a poem with illustrations and music. Evan liked to write poems about her, which she found quite flattering, if not a bit too cajoling. Still, she enjoyed the banter and his chivalrous flirtations much better than Rab's attempt to turn her home into a florist shop.

* * *

The day of her first date with Rab had been filled with at least twenty owls delivering her roses. By the end of it, Cassiopeia had run out of vases and was using transfigured water jugs to hold them. Hermione was thoroughly embarrassed by the time Rab arrived to take her to dinner, when he handed her a single white rose. When she took it from him the stem wrapped around her wrist and turned into a golden band. Hermione blushed as she brought the rose up to her nose and inhaled the delicate scent of its soft petals. "Thank you, Rab."

The restaurant they entered looked like the interior of a Venetian palace. Hermione stared in awe at the massive murals and the crystal chandeliers. Eyes combed over them as they passed. They were seated in the direct center of the restaurant. Whispered conversations about them tugged at her ear while she looked over the menu. She couldn't help but fidget with her napkin in her lap as pairs of eyes kept glancing over at her.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Rab asked, setting his menu aside.

"What? Oh, yes. Well, sort of. I'm fine, I just…" she leaned in across the table and lowered her voice. "It seems like a lot of people are staring at us."

"Well we're very good looking people, Hermione, it was bound to happen."

She felt her cheeks grow hot, but he smiled at her good-naturedly.

He glanced around and caught many other people staring at them as they quickly glanced away. "You do have a point. I'm so sorry about this. I thought the news about my father would have died down by now, but apparently that's not quite the case. I just wanted to take you someplace nice for our first real date. Would you prefer to go somewhere else?"

Hermione glanced over Rab's shoulder and caught several sets of eyes darting away. "Would that be alright?"

"Definitely. Where would you prefer?"

"Anywhere more private, honestly."

He nodded and rubbed his jaw, thinking. "There's a small pub down the road. It isn't very fancy, though."

"That sounds great," she said truthfully.

Rab smiled at her and stood up, setting down his napkin and leaving a galleon on the table. Offering her his hand, which she accepted, he led her out of the restaurant and down the street into the dark pub.

The sound of laughter and the scent of stale ale and fresh hot shepherd's pie made her feel much more at ease as they wedged themselves into a booth tucked in the back. No one really paid them any mind except for a few odd stares given their formal attire. But Rab shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie and that seemed to be the signal to the others that there really wasn't anything that interesting going on and they turned back to their drinks and conversations.

"Have you been here before?" Hermione asked.

"A few times. A number of my friends like to come here. The food isn't bad, unless you want something moderately healthy, in which case you're out of luck," he winked at her.

He brought her back a bottle of butterbeer and a plate of chips while they waited for the server to bring out their food.

Rab watched her thoughtfully as he drank his mug of beer. "You're not drinking your butterbeer," he commented. Hermione glanced at the bottle and unscrewed the cap. She hesitated.

"You can check it if you're worried I slipped something in it," he said in a dry monotone.

Biting her lip, she tapped it with her wand and muttered a spell to make sure it was safe. When the spell didn't reveal anything unusual she took a sip, fiddling with the bottle in her hands, clearly embarrassed for not trusting him.

"I'm sorry, Rab. I'm not quick to trust people."

He waved it away, but the frown remained on his face. "You have every right to be cautious. My family's history is not a secret to the rest of the wizarding world. It's why my brother had such a hard time finding a wife."

"I thought he married Bellatrix rather young."

Rab scoffed. "Oh, yes. And what a _fortuitous_ relationship that has turned out to be. My family gets stuck with the psychopath from the Black family. Marvelous."

"You don't like Bellatrix?"

He snorted. "_Like_ her? I don't think that anyone who has ever met her has liked her. Her own father certainly didn't, otherwise he wouldn't have let her marry my family."

"You're not doing a very good job of selling yourself," Hermione remarked playfully, trying to fix the mood.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure how to sell myself if you've already heard rumors about me that will put anything I say into doubt."

Hermione tried not to wince at the self-deprecating tone he directed at her in an almost accusatory fashion. "I suppose you'll have to tell me your side of the stories."

He lifted an eyebrow, slightly amused, but not quite willing to smile yet. "You want to go over all the skeletons in my closet? We could be here a while. I have a very large home. There's lots of closets."

She chuckled at his joke and sipped her butterbeer.

"What have you heard?" he asked, folding his arms and leaning back in his seat.

Hermione reached for the chips, but she looked him in the eye. "I heard the men in your family have a history of taking wives under the imperius curse. And when they didn't produce sons they died from mysterious illnesses."

"Indeed. One from the French branch of the family did, Corvus Lestrange IV. And it has tarnished our family name almost as much as the incestual marriages of cousin to cousin. You'd be surprised how often that happens in families that are as old as mine. But tell me, where did you hear about that?"

"Evan mentioned it, before we started our courtship."

"Evan? Well played, I suppose. He got his licks in early I see. Well, the Rosier family has its dark history too. Their name has nothing to do with flowers, for one. No, it comes from the patron demon of tainted love and seduction. His family practiced the dark arts for centuries. Like my family, the Rosier family has always sought power through whatever means were necessary."

"I don't believe we have to be like our forefathers," Hermione replied, taking another chip.

"What else have Evan and Reg told you?"

"That you had an informal courtship once. But it didn't work out because your father didn't approve of the relationship."

He pressed his lips together in a thin line. "Ah. But that's not _all_ of what he told you, is it? Of course he mentioned Abby." A low grumble emanated from his chest and he leaned back into the table, pulling out his wand and performing a silencing charm around them. "You deserve the truth. I _did_ have an informal courtship with a witch named Abigail Leeson. It isn't that uncommon for witches and wizards in the modern era to court in a more relaxed fashion. We dated for a few months and fell in love and one thing led to another and Abigail became pregnant. I asked my father for approval to marry her when I found out about the child and we drew up a marriage contract. All that there was left to do was perform a paternity test and the blood purity test. The baby was mine, but Abigail discovered that her father was not actually her biological father. She was a half-blood and had been conceived through an affair her mother had had with a muggle man.

"My father called her some very disrespectful names and we got into a fight because I still wanted to marry her and he said he wouldn't allow it. He assumed she was lying when she said she hadn't known the truth about her heritage and before I could stop him he used the cruciatus curse on her. She lost the baby." Rab was quiet for a moment, staring at the contents of his glass before tossing the rest of it back. "I wiped her memory after it happened and she lives abroad in Spain, where she is much better off away from my family."

Hermione's hand covered her mouth and she slowly lowered it after the shock dissipated.

"So there it is. My lovely family. I'm not sad my father is dead. He was a terrible, _evil_ man. And I know my family has a heinous reputation, especially at the moment. Quite frankly, Hermione, if you don't want to pursue a relationship with me, I understand. Most women wouldn't."

"I can't believe your father could do something so horrible," she gasped, her throat constricted in sympathy for him. "I'm so, so sorry that happened to you. And to Abby. No one deserves to be treated like that."

"No one does. But you're right to withhold your trust. You don't know me. Not yet. Not really. But I do promise, Hermione, I will be honest with you. You can ask me anything, and if I can tell you, I will. But there are some things I might not be able to share with you." She nodded and he took a long drink from his beer. "Now, is there anything else that Evan has told you?"

"He said that you liked to visit a place called the Lusty Leprechaun," she said, averting her eyes as her cheeks pinked up.

Rab snorted into his beer. "Oh yes, he would know. He's no stranger to the establishment either. It's a gentleman's club and my brother is quite fond of it. I have to drag him out of there every few nights."

"So you've never visited for the services yourself?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, but she reminded him that he had just told her he would be honest with her.

"I have spent a fair bit of coin there myself after I lost Abby and the baby. I have been in a very bad place since that happened and I used women and alcohol to cope. I'm definitely not a perfect man. I don't even claim to be a good one anymore."

"You shouldn't blame yourself for the bad that has happened to you, Rab. It wasn't your fault. You did nothing wrong."

He shook his head and sighed heavily. "I wish I could believe that. But I don't think I will ever get to a point where I don't blame myself for what happened to Abby and our child."

Hermione reached her hand across the table and gripped his larger one in hers, squeezing it reassuringly. "You did what you could to be noble, Rab. But it wasn't your fault. I'm sorry you've had to bear so much pain over this. And that you've had to bear it alone."

He hesitated, but he closed his hand around hers in a gesture of comfort. "You're welcome to leave now that you know the truth. My sister-in-law in a psychopath, my brother is a lecherous lush, and I am a deeply damaged part of my fucked up family."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "I'm not going anywhere, Rab. Your family doesn't scare me. And neither does your past."

Rab managed a half-smile as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "I cannot tell if you are incredibly kind or incredibly brave. Either way, I fear I have underestimated you, Miss Krum. I'll have to be careful not to do so again."

* * *

That night when she returned home from her evening with Rab she felt rather perplexed. It was not often that her instincts about a person were wrong, but in the case of Rabasatan Lestrange she felt like perhaps her initial impression was off. He seemed lonely and more withdrawn when he was not surrounded by other people. And sad. Perhaps he needed a friend or companion. Someone who understood and could sympathize with his loss. She stared at her left hand; the same one he had held as they walked down the snowy street under the glowing strings of lights. As she turned it over she waved away that glamour covering her skin. The shining scars had faded to a pallid pink.

"How was your date?" came a voice as she entered the sitting room.

She jumped, sucking in a quick breath and pulling the sleeve of her coat back over her wrist to hide the word on her arm.

Cassiopeia sat with a cup of tea in her lap. "Well?" she prodded, gesturing at the chair beside her for Hermione to join her.

Hermione shrugged off her coat and hung it up in the hall before joining Cassiopeia for a cuppa. "It was... surprising."

"In what way?"

Hermione hesitated, mulling the conversations and events of the evening over in her head. "It's like... like he's a different person when he's not around a group of people. There's more to him than I thought."

Cassiopeia nodded, attempting to appear neutral as she waited for Hermione to say more.

"He told me... he told me his father was an evil man. Did you know him?"

"Rabastan's father? Indeed, I did. He was not a kind man, no. He reminded me of Walburga. I think he had sons because he was supposed to, but I doubt that he ever truly loved them. And there are other stories I've heard that are too terrible to speak of, but if they are true, I am glad he is no longer in this world. For your sake." She looked at Hermione sadly as she set her cup down.

Hermione was holding her hands in a white-knuckled grip in her lap, steeling herself. "Cassie, I need your help. And you're going to want to say no, but I need you to say you will help me."

Cassiopeia's eyes narrowed and she set her cup and saucer on the table before sitting straight in her chair once more. "What is it, my dear?"

Taking a deep breath she told her. "I need you to help me hide the scar on my wrist."

Cassiopeia motioned for her hand and lifted her glasses onto her nose from the gold chain around her neck. "I'm afraid it looks to me like it was done with a cursed blade. I'm afraid there's no healing a cursed scar like this with any spell or potion I know of. Can you not continue using the glamour?"

"If someone touches my wrist it will show. I can't have anyone find out who I really am. So I need your help."

"I'm afraid it's just as I said. There's nothing I can do to heal it."

Hermione nodded, biting her lip. She knew that. "I know you can't heal the scar that's already there. I don't want you to heal it. I want you to cover it."

"With a bandage?"

Hermione shook her head. "With another scar."

Cassiopeia's eyes widened in alarm. "You want me to hurt you?"

"Just something that will cover the scar. A burn or a slicing cut or something."

"I took an oath to heal people, Hermione. Not hurt them."

Hermione rubbed the skin of her arm, tracing the letters. "I know. And I'm sorry I have to ask it of you. But if they find out I'm a mudblood there's no telling what they'll do to me. You might not get the chance to heal me then," she said gravely.

Cassiopeia was silent for a long minute, weighing Hermione's resolve in her eyes, trying to think of other, better options.

"Fine. I will help you. But it will hurt. I will need to restrain you."

Hermione nodded quickly and lay down on the couch as Cassiopeia instructed. Thick black cords wrapped around Hermione, binding her tightly, but leaving her left forearm exposed.

"Try not to move." Cassiopeia performed a numbing spell on the unaffected areas surrounding the word 'mudblood' on her arm. Pointing her wand at Hermione's wrist and with a rapid slashing motion Cassiopeia sent a fiery burn up her arm, covering the word with a cauterized slash of mottled skin. Hermione bit back a scream and forced herself to lie still, throwing her head back in pain. Another pass of her wand and Hermione's pain lessened as Cassiopeia let most of the scar tissue heal over. It was still raw and red looking, but it was no longer left exposed and bloody to the world. Cassiopeia dressed the wound loosely in a clean bandage after slathering a bit of putrid yellow liquid on the burn. "There. It will take a few days to heal properly, but once it does you'll have a scar that should hide the previous one."

"Thank you."

"You're playing a dangerous game, Hermione. I don't want to see you lose." She pulled a small pink bottle out of her pocket and handed it to Hermione. "I also don't want to see you taken advantage of. This is a contraceptive potion. Take one each month. It's better to be prepared."

A lump formed in her throat as Cassiopeia pressed the small pink bottle into her hand, as she wondered, not for the first time, if had gotten more than she bargained for by choosing this path.


	26. Chapter 26: The Problem with Prophecy

**Chapter 26: The Problem with Prophecy**

Regulus appeared at the Lestrange family manor in the darkness of the night. He crossed to Severus who stood by a suit of armor. "Do you know why he's called us this time?" Regulus asked in a low voice.

Severus lifted his head. The dark circles under his eyes were emphasized by his pale, grey colored pallor. He looked haunted and Regulus took a step closer to him. "Sev, what's the matter? You look awful."

Just then the doors opened and the other Death Eaters made their way into the dining room. They sat in tall black chairs with high backs of carved walnut and leather with brass studs. A faint smell of burned parchment and stale drink lingered in the air as they sat and Voldemort appeared at the head of the table. Rodolphus and Bellatrix sat nearest to him on either side as proud hosts.

Regulus glanced at Severus's pale face as he stared into his lap, unblinking, dead-eyed. A stone dropped into Regulus's stomach as Voldemort spoke.

"It appears that my spies have some interesting news for us. As you are well aware, Severus overheard a prophecy about a child that would be born at the end of July who will supposedly have the power to vanquish me." A number of amused derisive snorts went out around the room. "Indeed, I too find it amusing to believe such nonsense about a mere infant. But I have received word from my spies that two witches from the Order of the Phoenix are currently with child: Alice Longbottom and Lily Potter."

Regulus's eyes flicked up at Severus and he saw him turn a putrid shade of green. Their eyes met for a brief moment and without speaking they understood one another. Regulus turned back to listen as Voldemort continued, but a creeping sense of dread filled his stomach. He already knew which one Voldemort suspected was the mother of the child from the prophecy by the sick look on Severus's face. A high pitched ringing sounded in his ears as he thought about what this meant. Severus may have just handed over Lily's death warrant.

"And that is why I am led to believe that the prophecy refers to the Potters' son. And although an unborn child does not pose any threat to me now or in the near future, there may come a time one day when it does." He paused and looked down the table, waiting for his Death Eaters to speak.

"I say kill the mother and be done with it. One less mudblood in the world and one less screaming whelp," Mulciber mused, picking at his teeth.

"Kill both mothers. Why take the chance? Eliminate all the targets and strike a blow to the morale of the Order too," Bellatrix said calmly, leaning towards Voldemort with a twisted smile.

"A fair suggestion, Bellatrix, but I do not think it is necessary. We would not want to spill pureblood we might one day convince to come over to our side."

Bellatrix deflated a bit. "Kill the Potter bitch then and be done with it," she sneered, waving her hand dismissively.

"Patience, Bella, patience. We have time."

"Why wait? The Potter has been a nuisance to us. Besides, it has been a while since we've had a good revel," Dolohov remarked casually, licking his lips.

"Do you grow bored so quickly, Antonin?"

Murmured laughs came from around the table.

"I wouldn't be opposed to a good raid on the Potter's home."

Severus's eyes widened in alarm, darting fearfully from Dolohov to Voldemort. Before he realized it, Regulus had stood up abruptly, the sound of his chair making heads turn to face the usually silent young Death Eater.

"Eager for your first taste, Black?" Voldemort asked, his red eyes shining in the light of the flickering torches all around them.

"No, my lord. I beg you to reconsider. Prophecies are known to have disastrous unforeseen consequences. And we are not sure what the rest of the prophecy might have said. It would be wise to wait. An unborn infant poses no threat to you."

"Of course not. But you do have a point. Many heroes throughout history have doomed themselves for believing in false Seers. And there is no threat from a child."

Regulus felt the weight drop from his shoulders and he moved to sit back down when Voldemort spoke again.

"However, the failed mission to retrieve the prophecy from the Department of Mysteries has meant that we are limited by the information we do have. Perhaps another attempt is in order? Are _you_ willing to undertake this mission?"

Regulus swallowed, aware of the smirks and sneers coming from all around him. The last mission had been a catastrophic failure resulting in two deaths and two incarcerations. "Forgive me, my lord, but there may be another way. If the witch who gave the prophecy holds the memory of it, then we do not need to enter the ministry at all."

"Are you suggesting I send my Death Eaters into Hogwarts? Into the hands of Albus Dumbledore himself?"

Regulus shook his head. "Not yet. When the time comes to take the fight to him, we can take the memory of the prophecy from either the witch or Dumbledore." The red eyes narrowed at him, but Voldemort was quiet. "We should not lose sight of the threat in front of us for one that may come to pass in some distant future," Regulus stated in a clear voice.

Voldemort inclined his head and Regulus sat back down, forcing himself to keep his eyes on Voldemort and not on Severus. "You have a point, Black. We should not be diverting our efforts while Dumbledore still stands in our way. Travers, do you have a report for me on Dumbledore's current status and whereabouts?"

Travers leaned in to deliver his report to the group and Regulus only half listened, thankful that Voldemort's eyes were no longer on him. After the reports were delivered and plans were made to infiltrate the _Daily Prophet_ and silence the newspaper, Regulus waited for the others to file out of the room. Severus too, stayed behind. Regulus flashed him a warning look, but Severus shook his head incrementally. He was going to speak to the Dark Lord about sparing Lily.

"Find me later," Regulus muttered to Severus before stepping past him and disapparating.

* * *

Severus met with him the next evening at the tavern. "He said he would spare Lily," Severus told him over a drink that was most definitely _not_ Ogden's finest.

"Severus, you know what he's like. Just because he says he will _now _doesn't mean he'll keep that promise _later_. You know better. He doesn't care if women and children are killed. He'll break his promise the moment she gets in his way. You know he will."

Severus sipped his drink, rolling the glass around in his hands. "He won't break-"

"He will. He is going to _kill_ Lily's son. And do you think Lily and James are just going to hold the door open for him and let him do it? Of course not! They're Gryffindors! They die for the ones they love! And Voldemort will kill her and her son and James."

Severus frowned, staring down into his drink. "How do you know?" he asked, raising his dark eyes to meet Regulus's. "How do you know their child will be a son?"

"I just do, alright," Regulus said, dropping his voice even though he already put up a silencing charm.

Severus eyed him warily. "Regulus, you're a good liar, but you're not good enough to fool me. Tell me how you know."

"You're just going to have to trust me, Sev. Now, listen. You need to go to Dumbledore. Go to him and tell him to send James and Lily into hiding. It isn't safe for them now. You heard Bellatrix and Mulciber. I don't think they would have any problem killing Lily just as a precautionary measure if they see her walking down the street."

"Go to Dumbledore? Are you mad? And betray the Dark Lord? He'll kill me."

Regulus gave him a cold, hard look. "If you love Lily then isn't it worth the risk to protect her? The Dark Lord doesn't have to know. I can help you arrange to meet Dumbledore in secret so that no one finds out."

Severus sneered. "Have you been helping the Order?" he accused.

"Severus, please. Do you really think we're on the right side of this war? If it means killing innocent people like Lily and her child?"

Severus didn't say anything. He tilted his drink in his hand and took a long gulp of it. "She was right. I should have listened to her back then. I never should have gotten this damn mark. I never should have joined."

It was a treasonous thing to say, but Regulus was glad to hear him say it. Relief washed over him like a wave; someone else felt the way he did. "Listen to me, Sev. You can still get out of this. You can help Dumbledore and save Lily. Dumbledore will protect you." Severus scoffed, but Regulus pressed on. "It's true. Dumbledore is a man who forgives. He believes in redemption and love. Go to him tonight. Tell him what you heard and what the Dark Lord is planning. Tell him to hide Lily and James. You can still protect her."

Severus hesitated, but agreed. Regulus made the arrangements and sent a message to Dumbledore with the golden coin Hermione had given him. It was risky to tell someone else, even a friend, that he was working with the Order. But he trusted Severus and if he was careful and lucky, he might just manage to save his friend and gain an ally.

* * *

It was a grey, blistering cold day as Hermione met with Evan outside of an old castle. The structure itself was intimidating: harsh edges of jutting stone ramparts, ferocious gargoyles, and iron spikes lined the outer walls, weeping rusty red stains down the stone. Hermione gripped Evan's arm a little harder than she meant to in the presence of such a place.

"It's been in my family for over seventeen generations," he explained as he led her on a path around the building, clearing the snow with his wand as they went. She liked hearing about the history of the place, and Evan enjoyed history almost as much as she did, so he delighted in sharing his knowledge with her.

"It's a remarkable place," Hermione commented. "But, forgive me, I thought it wasn't proper to be visiting a private residence alone, just the two of us."

"Are you afraid of being alone with me?" he teased, giving her a reassuring smile. Hermione blushed and he chuckled. "Technically speaking, the castle grounds are open to the public. It just sees very little use in the winter, I'm afraid. Not many people like to come out in the cold."

"You don't seem to be bothered by it," she commented, tightening her scarf a little more to keep out the chill.

A half grin pulled at his lip. He lowered his voice to a whisper and spoke into her ear. "I actually find the cold weather to be to my advantage."

"Why is that?"

"The colder you are, the closer you come to me."

She smacked his arm playfully, but held it firmly all the same. Evan led her around the garden path and around to the side of the building where she saw tall hedges rising above her and she froze in her steps. It was a maze. Dark, looming shrubs rose high above her head, flecked with white snow from the previous night. Her hand tightened around Evan's arm as memories of another maze came to mind, and the image of Harry leaning over Cedric's dead body made her squeeze her eyes shut to clear it from her mind.

"Are you alright?" Evan asked.

"Fine," Hermione said in a weak voice. "I just get a little... claustrophobic," she explained.

"I'm right beside you. You can hold onto me as much as you need to. Or want to," he joked, leading her inside.

It wasn't entirely bad. The white snow and the bright grey clouds overhead made it feel less intimidating and Evan walked through it with an air of confidence that soothed her nerves. Still, a part of her was nervous going around every curve, not knowing what to expect, and she clung onto Evan's arm with both hands as the hedges rustled and shifted, blocking the path ahead of them.

"Guess we have to go this way now," he said with a tone of amusement as she gave a little squeak in surprise when the hedges had begun to move.

Birds flew from overhead and landed on the branches to steal the red berries growing there, and Hermione relaxed a bit watching them. Evan whistled a tune and several more of them flew down, peering curiously down at the couple as they passed through the rows.

Evan was really quite sweet at times, Hermione had noticed. He had a relaxed demeanor and easy smile that put her at ease whenever she was uncertain about something. He picked up on her feelings and was quick to set things to rights if he overstepped or said something she did not like. Hermione appreciated the effort he was making to understand her personality and show her respect. A thrill of excitement stirred within her whenever she met him for a date.

Evan drew a pouch from one of the deep pockets of his coat and handed it to her. "Careful not to use it all up at once," he suggested, handing her the bag. It was full of tiny sunflower seeds. Taking a handful she tossed the bird seed behind her, and birds flew down to pick them up, pecking at the snowy ground. The path changed again and every so often Hermione would toss a handful out for the birds who flocked around them. Eventually, after a while of walking in different directions, Hermione and Evan came out into the middle of the maze.

There was a frozen fountain in the center with a fat cherub holding a harp as if singing a tune. Four benches surrounded the fountain and Evan flicked a knut into the basin. The fat cherub came to life as the coin hit the water, shaking off the snow and strumming the harp in its hands. Hermione smiled in delight as they sat on one of the benches and a flock of birds flew down at the sound, clearly expecting to be fed.

"I told you not to use it all up at once. They get awfully upset when there's none left at the end," he told her with a wry smile.

She threw the seeds out further, flinging handfuls in all directions for the birds as they pecked around the snow, gobbling them up. Watching them brought a smile to her face. "You seem to have them well trained."

"Honestly, I think the birds trained us. They get the better end of the bargain, anyway."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Hermione said brightly, watching them hop around in the snow to dig for seeds with their beaks. "I'd say it was mutually beneficial."

"It makes the kids really happy when they visit. They love feeding the birds."

"I can see why. This is a very happy place."

"It is, isn't it?" he agreed, glancing around the spot. "It's one of the places I always find I am happiest," he admitted. "It's peaceful here. It's easy to forget about the world outside beyond the hedges. It's one of the main reasons why I like coming here."

Hermione watched him, suddenly overcome with sadness. She could tell he was still grieving over the loss of his father. "Evan," she said gently, covering his hand with hers. But she didn't know what to say to help him feel better. A deep furrow had formed along his forehead and another between his brows, lost as he was in his own thoughts. "It's okay to miss him. Your father."

He tried to smile at her, but didn't manage it for long. "I do miss him. I feel like he was taken from me. It feels so unfair." His eyes glanced down where she knew he had the dark mark on his arm, but only for the briefest second. "I don't want to end up like him. I thought I could make him proud, if I followed in his footsteps. But now that he's gone, I can't help but ask myself what the point was to begin with?" He rolled up his sleeve, exposing the dark mark, rubbing his hand over it slowly. It was the first time he had exposed it for her to see and she did her best to look at least a little surprised.

"Do you regret it?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"Joining? In some ways. I always wanted to be like my father until I became just like him. And now that he's gone I'm afraid I'll follow blindly until something happens to me. And then poof, that's the end of it. All my family has strived to achieve for centuries wiped out in a moment of greed." He paused and stood, tossing another knut into the fountain as the cherub stopped playing.

Hermione rose to stand next to him, reaching for his hand. "You don't have to follow in your father's footsteps, Evan. Not if you don't want to."

Evan tried a smile. "You don't get it, I'm afraid. This mark will never come off. I cannot turn my back on it."

"What if there was a way? What if there was a way to make sure it never had power over you again?"

He managed a full smile this time and brushed aside one of her curls. "Are you worried about me, Miss Krum?"

"Yes," she admitted instantly.

Both of their eyes widened in surprise at the readiness and intensity of her answer.

Hermione bit her lip and ducked her head, taking his arm and placing a gentle hand over the mark. "I do worry about you, Evan. I don't want anything to happen to you."

He lifted her chin with his hand, looking intensely into her eyes. "I promise, I won't let anything bad happen."

She felt her eyes fill with tears and bit her lip in a vain attempt to keep herself from crying. She knew what happened to him in her time. A part of her couldn't believe that this man who loved poetry and architecture and watching birds was the same man who had died fighting for Voldemort rather than go to Azkaban. A shiver ran up her spine at the memories of Sirius's haunted face after thirteen long years in the prison guarded by dementors. Perhaps it was not so difficult to believe death was a kinder fate. Sniffing back her tears and forcing her voice to remain steady, Hermione stared down at his shoes and squeezed his hand tighter. "Evan, please don't make promises you can't keep."

He lowered his face to hers, forcing her to look at him. His stormy green eyes searched hers. "I promise you, I will keep you safe."

"I don't care if anything happens to me. Evan, I care about you," she whispered.

He captured her lips in his, kissing her intensely. Stunned, it took Hermione a moment to realize what had happened and she found herself kissing back. The intensity of the kiss dissipated as he slowly pulled her closer, moving his lips purposefully, slowing the kiss, but not breaking it quite yet. Hermione felt slightly dizzy as he stopped, blinking several times to get her bearings again as he stepped back.

"And I care about you," he told her, kissing her forehead softly.

* * *

"You can't be serious," Hermione said, folding her arms defiantly against her chest.

"It's perfectly safe," Rab said, offering her a hand.

She stared at it and shook her head vehemently. "It's freezing! What if I fall in?" She glanced down at the rocking rowboat with trepidation.

"You won't fall in. I promise. Now, come on, you have to trust me."

Hermione gripped his hand like a vice as he helped her down into the boat where she quickly sat down, grabbing onto the wooden seat beneath her.

Rab chuckled at her as he flicked his wand to separate them from the dock. The river was fairly wide and quiet on the clear day, but there was a bitter chill in the air that rustled Hermione's hair. Rab cast a warming spell over them both and she thought of the first time Regulus had done that for her and the thought of him relaxed her a bit. Ducks and geese bobbed along the river as Rab steered them with the paddles until they came to a large lake. As Rab began to row them off to the right he paused to shrug off his outer layers.

"I'm surprised you don't just move the boat by magic," she commented, noticing the line of perspiration on his forehead as he grinned at her.

"I need to get my exercise in somehow," he winked. Hermione glanced at the rippling muscles under his shirt and quickly turned away, blushing as he caught her looking.

He smirked. "Like what you see?" he teased.

"Oh yes, it's a lovely view," she teased back, pointedly looking out over the riverbank and not at him.

He shifted his weight suddenly to the left, rocking the boat, and Hermione squealed, gripping the sides anxiously, trying to recover her balance. Casting a glare at Rab, who smirked jovially, she pursed her lips in a pout. "That was very childish," she said scornfully.

"So is this," he said, dipping his hand into the water and splashing her.

Hermione hissed as the icy droplets hit her and slid down under her coat. "That water is freezing!" She mopped at her face with her scarf before pulling out her wand to dry herself off.

Rab was laughing heartily. "You need to stop taking yourself so seriously. It's okay to be childish sometimes. Live a little. Have some fun."

"Like this?" she asked, waving her wand behind her back to send a jet of water at the side of his head.

_"Ack!"_ he spat, cringing as the water thoroughly soaked him. Wiping his damp hair from his eyes he smiled roguishly at her. He rubbed his face on the back of his sleeve. "Merlin's beard, that's cold!" he said dramatically, shivering exaggeratedly and rubbing his hands together to get feeling back in his fingers before waving his wand to dry himself off.

Hermione smirked and leaned back in the boat, watching a duck swimming out across the water, reminded of Viktor when he jumped into the Black Lake in the middle of winter. Ron and Harry had thought he was mad to go swimming, when Hermione knew full well he was preparing for the second task.

"What are you thinking about?"

Hermione blinked and turned back to him. "Oh, I'm just thinking about the differences between British men and Bulgarian men. I used to see a man from Bulgaria who wouldn't bat an eye at swimming in freezing cold water. But maybe Bulgarian men are used to more severe conditions."

Rab stood up and the boat rocked again, startling Hermione. He began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Rab, what are you doing?" Hermione asked in a high, nervous voice. Was he about to strip in front of her?

"I'm going to jump in the water for a little swim."

"Are you mad? It's freezing!"

He shrugged off his shirt, revealing a very muscular torso with a smattering of chest hair and another line that went down from his navel past his belt. He smiled at her stunned reaction. She glanced away, her cheeks burning like they were on fire as he laughed again. "Like what you see?" he asked, placing his hands on his sides and puffing out his chest, forcing her cheeks into an even deeper shade of pink. His hands began to undo his belt.

"What are you doing?!"

"I told you. I'm going for a swim."

"Rab, I was joking! You don't have to do that!"

He threw the belt down into the bottom of the boat and began to undo his pants. "No, Hermione, I'm afraid I do. For queen and country." He tucked his fingers into his pants and pulled them in a quick motion so that he was only wearing a pair of black boxer shorts.

Hermione covered her eyes to keep herself from staring as Rab gave her a wink, took a deep breath, and jumped from the boat into the water. Hermione shrieked as some of the water splashed back at her before leaning over the boat to check and see if he was okay. The ripples grew wider and wider, but still he did not appear. Panicking, Hermione leaned further over the boat, peering into the dark water.

The boat tipped behind her and she let out a shriek as Rab appeared, hauling himself into the boat. He sucked in air though his teeth as he shivered.

Hermione recovered herself and pointed her wand at him, drying him off with a spell.

His hot breath came out in misty puffs as it slowed. "That's not exactly how I hoped you'd warm me up," he said with a smile, shivering as he pulled his pants back on. He leaned forward in the boat and planted a kiss on her lips, pulling himself flush against her. He took the muffled sound of surprise Hermione made as a sound of pleasure and parted her lips with his tongue, kissing her ravenously. Hermione tried not to show her revulsion at the taste of river water and his forwardness with their first kiss. She forced herself to take a breath and kiss him back, slowing the pace as much as she could. Rab caught on, but refused to break the kiss, running his hand down her coat and then up her leg. As his hand began to slide up her dress, she grabbed it and pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss.

"Please, Rab, I-I…" She didn't know what to say. "I'm still very new to this. Can we please take it slow?"

"Of course," he said with an impish grin, kissing her cheek and situating himself on his own seat and buttoning his shirt back up. Hermione brushed her curls back away from her face, pretending not to notice the bulge in the front of his pants. "I forget you're still a very young witch sometimes."

"Is that a bad thing?" she asked.

"No." He gripped the oars and began to row again. "May I ask, is this your first time in your life you've been in a serious relationship? Or three, technically." He waved the thought away as if it were immaterial.

"I suppose so."

He nodded, but said nothing, a small grin on his face.

"What?" she asked sharply, raising an eyebrow as she guessed at his thoughts.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

Hermione eyed him suspiciously, but decided against asking him again in fear that he might answer. "Rab?"

"Hm?"

"Is the queen a witch?"

* * *

Hermione had a sneaking feeling that taking things slow was not going to be an option for long. A carriage ride with Evan involved an intense amount of kissing and Rab took her to a Christmas party where he gave her a thorough snogging under a bundle of mistletoe. She had a feeling that slow meant something very different to her than it did to the men.

The only one who _did_ seem to want to go slowly was Regulus. She enjoyed kissing him, but he would rarely kiss her for long. And unlike Rab and Evan, he never seemed to push for more than kissing. Their dueling sessions would often end in the two of them embracing for a kiss, but he would break away and kiss her hand and call it a night, leaving Hermione always wanting a little more.

As Christmas time approached, Hermione requested time off at her new job to spend a few weeks with Cassiopeia in France. To be perfectly honest, Hermione was glad for the break from all the dating. Even if she only saw them each once a week it was still an exhausting affair for her. Maintaining the fiction of her life was proving to be difficult as well as Rab and Evan asked more about her childhood and adolescence.

Cassiopeia's trip was a blessing as Hermione got to relax and enjoy herself in a new place for a time. On Christmas Day, however, Rab sent her a pair of ruby earrings and a matching necklace as a gift, which, while lovely, were not something she could see herself wearing. Evan had sent her a beautiful leather-bound journal filled with poems and quotes he had hand copied in neat green ink. She was a bit disappointed when all Regulus had sent her was a card telling her she would have to wait until she returned for her actual present. Apparently Narcissa was also in the know about whatever it was, as she hinted Regulus was keeping the gift at the Malfoy Manor and not Grimmauld Place in her letter.

Hermione sent Narcissa a bottle of Parisian perfume and a baby blanket she had knit herself. To Evan she sent a beautifully illustrated history book about French castles and a box of sugar quills, which he had told her were a favorite treat of his. Hermione sent Rab a sweater 'to keep him warm' while she was away, and a handwritten letter signed with a kiss in her lipstick. It felt a bit tacky to Hermione, but she had a feeling it was something that would make Rab smile if nothing else. She had sent Regulus a knitted hat of soft red yarn, which she knew would make him roll his eyes, a stack of her favorite muggle books about magic, a box of snickerdoodle cookies she had made from scratch, and a small elf-sized pillow with a poorly embroidered 'thank you' spelled out in gold thread for Kreacher. Hermione had checked with both Higgy and Cassiopeia to make sure this would not be a rude gift to pass on to Kreacher. She also bought presents for both of them and they enjoyed a quiet holiday in their rented flat, reading books and eating far too much cake.

* * *

When Hermione arrived back in London she had a stack of letters waiting for her. Evan and Rab sent letters thanking her for their gifts and asking her if she wanted to come for another date soon. She sent them responses, but was most eager to visit with Regulus.

They arranged to have tea with Narcissa and on the day of their arrival Hermione stepped into the floo and out into Malfoy Manor where a round-bellied Narcissa greeted her.

"Oh, look at you!" Hermione cried, giving her an excited, but gentle hug. "How is the baby doing?"

"He's quite well," Narcissa said with a smile.

"A boy? You're certain?" Hermione said enthusiastically.

Narcissa beamed back at her. "Yes. It's a boy. My healer says everything looks good so far, but she's limited my daily exercise a good deal. I still make it out to my garden each day, though. The white oak tree is growing strong," she whispered as they walked into the sitting room together. "But first, before Regulus comes, tell me how your courtships are going. Three of them! You must be a busy woman," she giggled.

"I am, definitely. I barely have an evening to myself anymore. Not that I'm complaining. They're all very nice men."

"And is there a front runner in this race?"

Hermione blushed. "I have a special fondness for Regulus, I must admit. We seem to connect better. Or maybe it's just easier because we were such good friends first. It's more comfortable for me to be myself around him."

"Which one is the best kisser?"

Hermione made a face at Narcissa, but couldn't hide her smile, covering it with her hands. "They're all very good kissers. Rab's first one was a little sloppy, I'll admit, but they got better. But they're all very good."

"And have you done other activities with any of them?" Narcissa asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Hermione hid her face and Narcissa laughed. "Does everyone like to make me uncomfortable? No, I haven't done anything except kiss them."

"Do you want to do more than kissing with any of them?"

Hermione averted her eyes as she reached for a sandwich from the tray in front of her. "Maybe," she admitted, thinking about how Regulus's kisses always left her wanting more. Waving her hands in the air, she brushed the topic aside. "So what is this surprise? What did Regulus get me? And why is he keeping it here?"

Narcissa turned an imaginary key next to her lips, sealing them to secrecy.

Hermione sighed, but asked about Narcissa's plans for the nursery.

Regulus arrived a few minutes later and joined them for tea. Before he could sit down, however, Narcissa pulled him aside, insisting that he give Hermione the surprise first.

"Yes, please," Hermione said, a smile tugging at her lips. "Let the suspense end already."

Narcissa covered her eyes as Regulus retreated into another room and came back in a moment later, closing the door behind him.

"Okay, you can look now."

Narcissa removed her hands and Hermione blinked and looked at Regulus to see what he was holding. In his arms he held a fluffy ginger kitten with cow-hocked legs and a long bottlebrush tail. He let out a quiet little mew as he blinked his yellow eyes at her.

"Regulus, you should have put the bow around his neck! He looks so cute with the bow!" Narcissa lamented.

"I tried, but I don't think he likes it that much."

"Well?" Narcissa asked, looking at Hermione to gauge her reaction. "Do you like him? His name is Crookshanks, but you can give him a new one if you want," she suggested.

Regulus stepped forward and gingerly handed her the fluffy kitten. Cradling him in her arms, the kitten sniffed at her and mewed again. And Hermione broke down in tears.

Narcissa panicked, sitting beside her with a worried look on her face. "Oh, Hermione, what's wrong? I know he's not the most handsome kitten, but he's really sweet."

Hermione looked at Regulus and covered her mouth, stifling the sobs that wracked through her body.

He crouched beside her and offered her his handkerchief, which Hermione had a feeling he had known he'd be needing today. He scratched the kitten behind the ears, and it purred loudly.

Hermione tried to speak several times, but all she managed was: _"Cr-Crookshanks?"_

He nodded, giving her that small, private smile of his. "Crookshanks. The witch at the Magical Menagerie said that even though she usually sells out of most kittens around the holidays, no one wanted this one. But I think he's a very handsome little fellow."

"He's gorgeous," Hermione managed to say, kissing the top of his fluffy head.

"He's really quite a good little hunter. Here, I'll go get his toys so you can play with him," Narcissa said, hurrying from the room.

When she was gone Hermione shook her head in disbelief at Regulus, who smiled knowingly back at her. "You found him. I can't believe you found him! Thank you," she sniffed, kissing the kitten's head once again.

"You're welcome."

Hermione leaned forward and kissed Regulus with as much feeling as she could in the short time she knew she had before Narcissa returned.

"I think he likes you," Regulus said as the cat purred against her.

She laughed and sniffed again, dabbing at her eyes.

"And I'm not quite certain, but I think he might be part kneazle. He's awfully large for a kitten. And very smart."

Crookshanks batted at one of her curls and she hiccuped.

Narcissa returned with an armful of cat toys and they spent the rest of the day tossing small fluffy pink mice or dragging a string across the floor. Unlike Regulus, Narcissa was able to successfully put the bow around his neck, but after five minutes Crookshanks pulled it off over his head and attacked it, deciding it was a much better toy than an accessory.

Hermione cheered up significantly as she played with Crookshanks.

"Why couldn't you keep him at Grimmauld Place?" Hermione asked curiously. Narcissa and Regulus exchanged a look and Regulus said, "Let's just say my mother isn't fond of animals. Narcissa was generous enough to take him in. But I spoke with Cassiopeia and she says he can come home with you tonight."

Hermione beamed and thanked them both as she carried Crookshanks and his basket of toys home with her that evening. For once since she'd been sent back she had a piece of her family again. And it meant more to her than she could ever express to Regulus. And she knew then, as she curled up with the kitten resting in a little loaf on her chest as she lay down that night, that she was falling deeply, _deeply_ in love with Regulus.

* * *

Crookshanks took a quick liking to Cassiopeia. Throughout January he could be found curled up on her lap while she read the morning paper or hiding his toys in her shoes. Cassiopeia in turn took a liking to him as well, and Hermione noticed that she smiled much more often when the kitten suddenly decided to worm his way under the bookcase or climb the back of the couch. Hermione had fretted over having a kitten around Cassiopeia's nice furniture, but Cassiopeia laughed and waved her wand, showing her how simple it was to fix the frayed threads on the couch. She had worried too, that Higgy would become upset with her as the new kitten was quite messy, knocking things off tables and countertops and leaving cat hair everywhere, but even Higgy didn't seem to mind the new addition to the household, as she often carried the kitten around on her shoulders as she did her cleaning.

Regulus was especially fond of him and came over for tea several times that week to play with the kitten after a long day of work. Crookshanks adored him. Regulus was particularly good at throwing toy mice up in the air and Crookshanks would leap up and flip to try and catch them.

It delighted Hermione to have Crookshanks back in her life, even if the kitten version was much more energetic than the adult Crookshanks had been.

Crookshanks was a lot less keen on Evan and even less so with Rab when she introduced them to him. Rab made a remark that his flat face looked like it had been hit with a frying pan and that had earned him a reproachful look from Hermione, as well as a hiss from Crookshanks. Not that this seemed to bother Rab, who was perfectly content to ignore the kitten. Evan, however, saw how much the kitten meant to Hermione and made more of an effort to befriend him, even trying to bribe him with cat treats. Eventually Crookshanks was won over by a gift of catnip toys, which he rolled around in purring intensely and drooling. After that Evan was allowed to pet him, although Regulus was still the clear favorite.

Regulus did visit more often, and while Rab and Evan both came over for tea once or twice, they generally preferred to stay away from Cassiopeia's home, having given it up as Regulus's territory since Cassiopeia was a Black and made no attempts to hide her preference for Regulus as the best suitor for Hermione.

Funnily enough, Hermione had begun to notice that the men seemed to have a system worked out, whether spoken or unspoken, to set ground rules or establish territory. They seemed to treat their courtships almost like an elaborate game with rankings and points and everything. Rab, for instance, had clearly won points for being the first one to gift her heirloom jewelry. After she had worn her Christmas gifts from him with a matching red coat she had received additional gifts of jewelry not soon after from both Regulus and Evan. Regulus had given her a strand of pearls that had belonged to his great grandmother and Evan gave her a bracelet with pink stones arranged like flowers that had been in his family for generations.

Once when she mentioned how much she enjoyed the dinner at a restaurant Evan had taken her to already, Rab had canceled their reservation there and taken her somewhere else instead.

Regulus, however, seemed to have scored the most points by giving her Crookshanks, and she could tell when she introduced both Rab and Evan to her kitten that they were secretly irritated that they had not thought of it first.

When she mentioned this to Narcissa she laughed so hard she nearly choked on her tea. "Well of course they were irritated! They're not just trying to impress you, they're trying to show each other up too! They know they have competition and they're each viable candidates, so they're fighting to be the most impressive."

"I'm surprised they're not whipping out their wands to compare sizes," Mrs. Bulstrode had added with a sly grin, bouncing a baby Millicent in her arms. Hermione covered her face with her hands as the other women laughed.

Still, it was nice to have female friends she could confide in, especially as the courtship process was new to Hermione. And Narcissa was kind in that she didn't seem to have one person she wanted Hermione to be with more than the others. When Hermione asked about this, Narcissa shrugged and smiled. "I guess it doesn't matter much to me because one way or another, you'll be family soon enough. My mother was a Rosier, although distantly related to Evan from the French branch. My sister is a Lestrange. And I was born a Black." The thought of being related to Bellatrix made her skin crawl, as the realization had not occurred to her until Narcissa had pointed it out. To ease her terror she reminded herself that if all went according to plan, Bellatrix would be locked up behind bars, far away where she could never hurt her or anyone else ever again.


	27. Chapter 27: Stars Above

**Chapter 27: Stars Above**

During the third week of February Regulus asked her for an evening of her time, telling her he had a surprise of sorts planned for her. Once again Cassiopeia seemed to be in the know along with Higgy, but whenever Hermione tried to get a hint one way or the other out of the two of them they said they wouldn't mention anything.

It wasn't until the night before when she asked Cassiopeia what she should at least wear for her evening with Regulus that she had some clue. "Something that won't wrinkle," was what Cassiopeia had told her. "And I'm aware you may be back late." With only these words to go on Hermione stood in front of her wardrobe with her arms crossed, tilting her head this way and that, uncertain. Hermione thought that they might be going for a picnic or somewhere outdoors. But Cassiopeia had not warned her to dress warmly or bring an umbrella, so she assumed they would be indoors. Still, the part about wearing something that wouldn't wrinkle worried her. What exactly would they be doing? And why wasn't she worried that they would be back late?

A thought came to mind that made the back of Hermione's neck grow hot and her palms sweat. Surely this couldn't possibly be... _that_ kind of a date. Or could it? Hermione brushed the thought aside and picked a lavender dress she was rather fond of. Still, as she opened her dresser to pull out undergarments and stockings her fingers hovered over her usual plain black ones, hesitating. After a moment's thought she moved some things aside and pulled out a lacey set she had purchased with her own money in France.

That evening she paced before the fire, Crookshanks watching her with his round yellow eyes as she moved back and forth in an endless circle. She had already eaten supper with Cassiopeia, so she knew that they weren't going to dinner. So what then could it be?

As a dozen thoughts ran through her mind the flames turned green and Regulus stepped out into the living room. "Are you ready?" he asked with a smile, holding out his arm. He was wearing his usual suit and hadn't brought a jacket, so Hermione assumed that they wouldn't be going outside, which made her heart hammer against her chest a little harder. But she smiled at him and took his arm.

They apparated to the front door of a large stone building. The Black family crest hung overhead as Regulus opened the two doors in the looming entranceway.

"Where are we?" Hermione asked, although she had a sneaking suspicion that she already knew.

"The Black Manor. It hasn't been used for some time. Technically, it belongs to my father, but it's rather large and he couldn't be bothered to deal with maintaining it, which is why we live in Grimmauld Place. Plus, I think he always liked the city more than the country. Come on." He led her through a large grand entrance hall with coal black marble floors with white veins running through it. All the portraits had thick canvas draped over them, coated with a layer of dust.

"Is anyone else here?"

"No. It's just the two of us. Not even the portraits come here when it's not in use."

"So we're all alone in this big dark mansion? You didn't bring me here to kill me, did you?" she asked nervously, the sound of their shoes echoing back at them from the shadows.

"Do I detect a note of fear coming from my brave Gryffindor?" he teased, leading her up the winding stairs.

"I'm not afraid," she murmured, glancing at the enormous tapestry of the Black family tree as they went. It was a much larger and more extensive version of the tree. Hermione didn't get long to look as he pulled her up the stairs.

She was panting hard by the time they reached the top of them and Regulus led her into a large, rounded room with a domed ceiling. Everything in this room except for a few silver metal objects was a deep, rich black. Soft lights came from the clear glass orbs mounted on brackets along the walls as they stepped inside.

"I set everything up in advance," Regulus said, leading her into the room. In the center of the black marble floor two black velvet fainting couches were pushed together with a soft blanket thrown over the back of one. A small table rose next to it, holding a box of chocolates, a bowl of fruit, a corked bottle, and two glasses. Hermione slowed her pace as her heart began to beat faster. She was suddenly very thankful she had thought of this and worn her lacey underwear and kept up to date on her contraception potion.

"Lie down," he instructed, kissing her hand.

She wondered if her heart was going to burst out of her chest it was beating so hard. Lowering herself down, she lay on the sofa, adjusting the pillow behind her slightly to a more comfortable position.

Regulus lay down on the sofa next to her and leaned over her to pull the blanket over them both. He hovered over her for a moment, that small, private smile lingering on his lips, his silver eyes glittering with excitement. "Are you ready?" His breath was a mere whisper.

Hermione took a deep breath, but nodded, leaning forward to capture his lips in a kiss.

He pulled away, smiling, and flicked his wand behind him. The lights around the room dimmed slowly and he lay back on his own sofa and cast a spell at the ceiling. This was rather odd, but the moment the spell connected with the ceiling lights came alive and twinkling stars appeared, mimicking the night sky.

Hermione gasped in wonderment as the floor beneath her began to rotate. Regulus pointed to a bright star in the constellation Leo. "That bright one there is the star I'm named after, Regulus. Although it has more than one name according to different cultures and points in time. Funnily enough, although it has goes by many names, most of them typically relate to royalty or kingliness. Regulus translates directly to 'little king' and it's one of the brightest stars in the night sky next to 'Sirius' which is that one," he said, moving his finger to point at the brightest one above them.

"The Dog Star," Hermione grinned. She felt foolish now, having mistaken this date of a night under the stars as something more. Once she was over her initial embarrassment she lifted Regulus's arm and rested her head on his shoulder as he pointed out and named some of his favorites. The story of Cassiopeia was one of her favorites and Regulus told it in such a captivating way that she forgot about all else outside the room and felt herself pulled into the mystery of the night sky. Regulus's knowledge of the myths and legends from various cultures was fascinating. Hermione remembered with a grin how excited the children at the museum had been when he was telling her about a few of them. She loved how calm and focused he was as he pointed out the relationships between different constellations in mythology and told her about the advancements in muggle telescopes and the fascinating explorations they were doing with satellites and probes.

At one point he paused and asked, "Is the future anything like that Star Wars movie we watched? With all the ships in space?" Hermione shook her head and he sighed.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, sitting up and digging around in her pocket.

"What is it?"

"I have something for you. But I need your wand."

He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to her suspiciously.

"Now close your eyes."

He did so and she illuminated her wand's tip to see better.

With nimble fingers she affixed the small crystal to the bottom of his wand and held it out to him. "Okay, open."

He did so, first peering with one eye then both. "It's a rock."

"Try saying 'lumos' and give it a wave."

"_Lumos._" A jet of blue light extended from the handle of his wand like a sword, humming as it burst into life. He moved it from side to side, his stunned expression melting into an excited smile. "Oh, you are _brilliant_," he murmured.

Blushing, Hermione chewed on her lip. "Do you really like it?"

He stood up and waved it around like a sword, twirling his wand in his hand as he assumed a fencing position. "Oh this is amazing! It even makes the sound from the movie. How did you get it to work?"

"It was really hard," Hermione admitted, delighted at his reaction as he examined it at further angles. "I meant to give it to you for Christmas, but I wasn't able to get it to work right. I had to dig up some old books on crystal magic to get it to hold the enchantment," she lamented.

"It's brilliant," he said, swinging it at an imaginary opponent.

"You can even change the color. Tap the crystal twice."

He did so and it changed into a bright red. Once more and it turned green. "Merlin's beard, that's remarkable. You really are the most talented witch I've ever met." He sat back down, studying the crystal before muttering, "_Nox._" The light went out and once again the only light came from the bright stars above them. Regulus stowed his wand carefully and kissed her. "Thank you," he whispered when he pulled away from the kiss.

She grabbed his tie and pulled him back down, not ready for the kiss to be over.

He grunted in surprise, but obliged, returning her kiss.

She wound her fingers in his hair, luxuriating in the soft silky texture of it. He rested on his elbows, his fingertips brushing at her curls. A fingertip traced the edge of her cheek down to her neck and she shivered at the tickling sensation. But he stopped, like he always did, and moved to her shoulder and back to her hair.

After weeks of craving more and finally having him alone, Hermione wasn't going to waste the moment. Her hands slid down to his back and she pulled him down to her, holding his body flush against her own.

Regulus broke the kiss in surprise, momentarily, before Hermione arched her back and kissed him again. She could feel his heart pounding in his chest against her own and it drove her further, as she tangled her hand in his hair and broke away from his lips to kiss his neck and nibble at his ear. A groan of pleasure sounded from deep in his chest as she did so and he gasped out her name. Emboldened, she rolled over on top of him and began to undo his tie. He helped by shrugging off his jacket at the same time as she slid the tie off from around his neck. She bent down over him, locking her lips to his as she took his hands in hers from where they rested on her waist and slid them up her chest. He responded with equal enthusiasm, running his fingers over the smooth curves of her. His hands began to wander on their own accord, trailing around to her sides and sliding down to her hips and back up again. Hermione broke away, panting heavily as she readjusted, sliding her dress up to straddle him more comfortably. Regulus's eyes widened in surprise and he too sat up. Hermione leaned back a bit as he pulled her close for another kiss. This time his hands trailed down her back and slid down over her backside. Hermione's fingers traced his sharp jawline down to his shirt as she began to undo the buttons. She hadn't managed to reach the third button before his hands stopped her and he pulled back from the kiss, breathing hard.

"Hermione, wait."

She paused, her shoulders falling. "What is it?"

He didn't look her in the eye. "I have-I don't want you to see-"

She kissed his cheek. "It's okay. I've seen your mark before. I don't care, I still want you to touch me," she whispered in his ear, kissing his neck.

"It's not that. I have... scars."

Hermione pulled back slowly, looking into his face. He still couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye. She cupped his cheek. "I don't care if you have scars. I have scars too. You know I do."

He glanced down at the shiny red burn on her arm that covered the word 'mudblood' from when he had first met her. "Not like these you don't," he whispered darkly.

A shadow crossed Hermione's face and she leaned back. She crossed her arms and grabbed the hem of her dress before pulling it up over her torso and head and then tossing it aside. "Like this?" she asked, trailing her fingers down from her right clavicle down her chest near the bottom left of her ribcage, breaking through the glamour and revealing the mottled purple scar that ran across her torso.

Regulus stared: his eyes didn't linger on the black lace bra she wore, but on the purple scar.

"I have scars too, Regulus. But I want you to see them. I'm not ashamed of them. They're a testament to what I've survived." She reached for his hand and put it over her heart, pressing his hand over the rough texture of the scar tissue there. "I love you, Regulus. You're the one person in this whole world who knows who I really am, what I really am, and why I'm here. I want you to know me, all of me. Even the parts I don't want the rest of the world to see."

She released his hand and he slid it gently down the length of the scar, over the lace of her bra down the rough texture of scar tissue to the hard ridge of her rib. He traced it slowly back up, sliding his hand over her smooth skin to the hollow of her clavicle to the back of her neck. He brought his lips to hers, kissing her softly, deeply, with as much care as he could muster. When he broke away, leaving her breathless, he looked into her eyes with his moonlight gaze. He needed her to know he meant it when he said it. "I love you too, Hermione."

Then they were kissing again, but this time it was different, this time it was filled with reckless abandon and trust: absolute trust. Regulus pulled her back down and rolled over so that he was one again on top of her, running his hands over her warm, smooth skin, trailing kisses down her neck to her chest and along her scar. He pulled back, extricating a moan of pleasure from her after burying himself in her hair and kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin of her neck, feeling his courage rise to the occasion. Standing on his knees above her he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, revealing pale skin and a toned, well-muscled torso. A line of black hair ran below his belt from his navel, but as he shrugged off his shirt Hermione saw the beginnings of scars. One ran over his shoulder almost along the base of his neck. But there were more. Many more.

Hermione suddenly understood why he had always worn the suit around her. Why he cast cooling and heating charms instead of removing his layers. Why when she had given him muggle clothes he had still worn the white button down under it just the same.

She didn't have long to look before he was on her again, tracing the lace edge of her bra as he kissed her passionately. With careful, slow movements she ran her hands up his chest, feeling the hard ab muscles and firm pectorals under his pale skin. Hesitant, she paused at his sides. "Regulus, can I…?"

"Yes." He kissed her again, drawing forth another moan as she arched into him.

Her fingertips touched slowly. First one scar, then another. Some were in thin lines like knife cuts while others looked like he had been whipped with a flaming steel cable. At first he was rigid and tense as her gentle fingers traced his scars, but slowly, very slowly her feather light touches helped him relax.

She pulled him down on top of her, craving the feeling of his skin on hers, his body against hers. She wrapped her legs behind him and pulled his hips down to hers and she felt his hard bulge press against her. Her body reacted, tilting her hips to rub against him.

Regulus sprang back, breaking away, breathing hard. Things were moving too fast. He needed to slow it down.

Hermione touched his cheek, looking up at him with concern.

"Are you okay? I mean, are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, swallowing hard as he hovered over her.

She smiled up at him, her chest rising and falling. "Regulus, I want to do this. I want you." She pushed herself up to kiss his lips before looking him in the eye. "Do you want to do this?"

It took all his will power not to press her back onto the sofa. "Merlin, yes. But we should talk about this first." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to focus for a moment and think logically, but her kiss-bruised lips were so distracting. "I've never done this before," he admitted.

"Me neither," she returned with a slightly nervous shrug.

"I can cast a contraception charm, but I've never actually used it before."

"I'm on the potion," she told him. "I have been since December."

"And you're sure you want to do this...with me...for your first time? I might not be very good at it."

She cracked a smile at his admission that he too was nervous. It made her feel better to know she wasn't alone. "It's okay, Regulus. This is my first time too. We can learn together. Take it slow," she told him encouragingly. "Besides," she pulled him back in for a sweet, gentle kiss. "I want it to be you."

The desire in her eyes weakened the little restraint he had left and he crashed back down on top of her, returning her kiss with renewed excitement. He was careful to go slow, though. Touching tenderly with achingly deliberate slowness, discovering how and where to touch her to spark a reaction. Lightly grazing her sides caused a delighted shiver to run through her and she arched her back when he kissed and sucked at the hollow of her neck.

Hermione was learning how to give him pleasurable sensations as well. She teased a shuddering breath from him when she ran her nails lightly down his chest. When her hand slid down over the bulge in his pants a groan came from deep in his chest and he gave an involuntary buck of his hips, his body craving more of her touch. Encouraged by his reaction, Hermione cupped her hand, applying more pressure as she moved up and down the length of him.

He gasped, his breath hot against her neck, a deep growl of pleasure sounding in his throat. Slipping his arms behind her, he pressed her to his chest, pulling them both back up to their knees so his fingers could reach the clasp of her bra. After a moment it fell away and Hermione shrugged it off and tossed it aside, feeling a chill run up her spine as she exposed her chest to him.

Regulus did not stop to stare, capturing her mouth in a long, rough kiss, tasting her with his tongue and pulling her flush against his chest. He began to kiss down her neck, his hands trailing down her back and around the curves of her ass and back up her hips and her waist to the soft skin of her breasts which he cupped in his hands. Circling his thumbs over her perky pink peaks elicited a sharp intake of breath from her as she closed her eyes in pleasure.

Hermione's eager hands went to his belt as she straddled him, moving her hips to grind against him.

Regulus moaned, bucking against her as she let his belt fall to the floor. He captured one of her pink nipples in his lips and began to suck, rubbing his tongue over in delicate motions.

Hermione threw her head back, biting her lip in a vain attempt to stifle the whimper he drew from her. Experimentally, she leaned back slightly, rocking her hips against him, the friction sending more pleasurable sensations through her core. She relished in the electric tickle as he ran his hands down her back, winding her fingers in his thick silky hair as he switched to give her other nipple the same attention.

She dipped her fingers into the waistband of his trousers. "May I?" she asked, her voice hot and breathy, lost in the ecstasy of sensation his ministrations to her breasts caused.

"Yes," he said, his breath a gasp against her breast.

She unzipped his pants and slid her hand down inside his boxers along the length of his hard, throbbing cock. Hermione felt a twinge of fear, excitement, and nervous anticipation as she moved her hand down the length of him, wrapping her hand around him. She could barely close her hand around him he was so big. The thought of having him inside her was both enticing and nerve-wracking at the same time.

He bucked against her hand as her fingers circled around the tip, spreading the wetness there all over the head of his cock. With the clothing in the way, her hand was limited in this position, so she focused on small, slow movements.

But the feeling of her hand on him drove him wild, and he was brushing back her hair to kiss her again, pushing her back down to the couch as he stepped off to pull down his pants. He left his boxers on, feeling a rush go through him as her eyes fell to his cock jutting out like carved marble from the rest of his body. Swooping back down, he kissed her slowly, sucking on her neck and nibbling on her ear. His hand began moving down between her breasts to her navel where his fingers grazed the waistband of her knickers. "May I?"

Hermione nodded breathlessly, lifting herself up so he could slide the black silk and lace undergarments down over her ass.

As he pulled them from around her ankles he paused, drinking in the sight of her bare before him, chest rising and falling in the dim starlight of the room. She was beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking. But it was those eyes and that smile that had him entranced. "You are perfection," he whispered, taking a step forward.

"Wait." He did and her eyes flicked to his boxers. "Take them off."

He raised an eyebrow at the order and watched her bite her lip in anticipation as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband and pulled them down, letting the fabric pool around his ankles. He stepped out of them, watching as her eyes took him in. After she had drunk her fill, her eyes flashed to his and she nodded silently.

He grabbed his wand and cast the contraception charm before he returned to the sofa, leaning over Hermione to kiss her again. His hand slid over her shoulder down the curves of her breast and the plane of her stomach to the curls below. With gentle pressure he slid two fingers down to touch the wet, sleek folds.

She gave a shuddering breath as he rocked his hand back and forth, slowly spreading her wetness over her most sensitive spots. She moaned into his mouth, tilting her hips to give him better access.

Her moan made his cock ache, but he ignored his longing and focused his attention on her. He wanted this to be good for her and he knew it could be painful the first time for a witch.

Hermione wound her fingers in his hair, rolling her hips as he circled the sensitive bud. "Regulus," she begged, reaching to brush his cock with her hand.

He let out a ragged breath and let her pull him down on top of her.

Wiggling slightly to readjust herself, she felt the pressure of his cock against her clit and she arched, sliding against him, craving more.

Regulus nestled his head in her neck, kissing her as she let out another moan when he began to move against her, coating his cock in her wetness.

"Regulus, please," she gasped, rocking her hips against him.

He positioned himself at her entrance and slowly pushed himself inside her.

Hermione had been expecting the pain, but his gentle kisses and caresses made her soon forget it as he began to move inside her, slowly at first, and then as he felt her relax and begin to move her hands and hips he thrust faster and deeper. She liked the feeling of his strong arms around her and the gentle tickle of his breath on her neck, and the way her arousal made her core ache for him. She buried herself against his shoulder, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his cologne and his hair as he quickened his pace.

He stretched one arm out above her head, clasping her hand in his as he whispered her name into her hair.

"Regulus, please, don't stop," she breathed, gripping him tightly as he stroked against a spot deep within her. She could feel the pressure building as he increased his pace and she arched her back as his movements intensified.

"Hermione," he gasped, and she knew he was close.

"Yes, Regulus, please, I need-" And then a cry of ecstasy escaped her lips and Regulus gave his final thrusts, sinking as deep as he could into her as waves of pleasure crashed through them both. Hermione's whole body shuddered and then went limp beneath him, her inner muscles pulsing around his cock as he came.

Gasping for breath, they stayed like that, thoroughly spent. Regulus released her hand and kissed her softly, carefully brushing aside her hair from her face. For several minutes they kissed slowly, fingers dancing lightly over their sweaty, intertwined bodies.

When Regulus pulled away and reached for his wand, Hermione missed the feeling of his skin against hers. But after a quick spell to clean themselves up he lay back down next to her and she curled up in the crook of his arm, her hand resting on his chest over the steady beat of his heart. "Regulus?"

He tilted his head to look at her, brushing his hand against her curls. "Yes?"

"Thank you."

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. They lay there exhausted, curled up in each other's arms, until they fell into a blissful sleep underneath the gentle light of the stars.


	28. Chapter 28: The Raid

**Chapter 28: The Raid**

There were no stars in the black sky tonight. Only the damp glow of the streetlights cast any light around the grimy street. Not that any of the muggles in the neighborhood would notice the four Death Eaters shrouded in disillusionment charms leaning against the brick walls of the abandoned corner shop with the faded newspapers in the windows.

"About time," one of them said in a croaky voice as the fifth and final hooded figure arrived.

"Miss me, Crabbe?" Rodolphus sneered.

"Merlin's hairy ass, Lestrange, what did you do, bathe in a vat of rum?" The fumes coming off of him made Crabbe wrinkle his nose in disgust.

"I'm here, 'n't I?"

"Yeah, now why are we here?"

"The Dark Lord has something special in mind tonight. It seems he's changed his mind about killing the Potter bitch. He wants us ta nip it in the bud, as it were," McNair told them.

Regulus felt his heart pound against his chest.

"He really wants us to kill the pregnant mudblood?" Crabbe sneered in derision. "My wife's just about to pop with our boy. I don't much fancy doing the deed, even if it is a mudblood. It's indecent."

Rodolphus barked a laugh and Regulus scowled from behind his mask. "And you're really one to care about decency, Crabbe? After what you've done to muggles?" he spat.

"What else is a muggle good for? Or squibs. A woman's only good for fuckin', Black. You best learn that quick, now you've got a witch."

"No need. Rab will get there first, mark my words," Rodolphus drawled. "If he hasn't already."

"We 'n't here fer that. The Dark Lord wan's the parents ta draw 'em out. We're here for the other set o' Potters. They live up in the big house o'er the hill." McNair jerked his thumb backwards.

"No killin'. No fun neither," he said, eyeing the rest pointedly. "Jus' in an' out."

"Any protections we should be aware of?"

"Doubt it," Reeser grumbled from the corner. "Didn't see nothing when I checked last night. A few muggle detering spells, but nothing besides the basics. Simple enough to break. I set up the anti-apparition spell already, so no easy escapes."

"Cover all exits and entrances. Black and I will go around the sides. Lestrange, take the back. Crabbe and McNair will take the front. Ready?"

"I've gotta take a piss," Lestrange said.

"Same," Regulus added. As they stepped behind the building, Regulus pulled out the coin and quickly tapped it with his wand to send Hermione a message. This was bad. Very bad. And he was not a match for four Death Eaters alone, even if one was mostly drunk.

Ten minutes later they took their positions outside the entrances to the large white house. Regulus climbed over the bed of gladiolas and lilies near the side porch and waited for the signal. A jet of sparks shot into the air and the dark mark appeared, spectral and smoky in emerald green above them. Regulus burst through the door, leaving it open behind him.

Once, almost six year ago he had gone with Sirius to pick up something from James over summer break, but he had only been inside the house once. Desperately, he tried to remember the general layout. He hurried past framed golden pictures of James at various ages and events, as well as several pictures of Sirius and James together too. He nearly gave himself a heart attack when he turned a corner and saw his own reflection in the mirror hanging at the end of the hall. But he didn't have time to waste. He ran up the stairs as quickly and silently as possible. There, at the end of the hallway was a set of French doors that had to lead to the master suite.

He turned the handle and opened it slowly. They were both asleep in bed, Mrs. Potter on the left and Mr. Potter on the right underneath a flowery bedspread. Regulus quickly closed the door and sealed it with a protection spell of his own design. Removing his mask, he stepped next to Mrs. Potter and gently shook her arm.

She blinked at him blearily. "Sirius? What's wrong? Is-Regulus?" she gasped, and he covered her mouth with his hand to keep her from screaming.

"They're here. There's four others. You need to leave."

Her eyes were wide in terror, but she nodded, her head full of pink curlers bobbing. She shook her husband awake and whispered, "Monty! Wake up! We have to go!"

He startled awake, but nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Regulus there in Death Eater robes.

_Bang!_

A blast exploded on the other side of the door, but it held, smoking slightly through the crevices. Both Potters grabbed their wands from their bedside tables and scurried into the far corner of the room, wands at the ready.

"Don't point it at him, Monty!" Euphemia Potter snapped, pointing her own at the door.

Fleamont Potter opened and closed his mouth rapidly, but no words came out, so he nodded his head and pointed his wand at the door. Another blast hit the door and the wood groaned and buckled from the force of it.

Regulus raised his wand and stepped in front of the Potters, ready to defend them. There was the sound of a scuffle outside, and then a loud groan.

There was a tense moment of quiet as footsteps approached the door. Then came a soft knock on the door. "Mr. and Mrs. Potter? Are you in there?"

Regulus recognized the voice and nearly cried out in relief as he hurried towards the door. "Hermione," he gasped, undoing the spell and opening the door to let her in.

"Hurry, it's not safe," she whispered, popping her head out from under the invisibility cloak.

"I called Dumbledore. How many are there?" They stepped over an unconscious Crabbe.

"Three more."

"Okay. You go ahead of us and we'll lead them out the back." She scooped up Crabbe's wand and handed it to Mr. Potter before ducking back under the cloak.

Regulus put his mask back on and headed down the stairs. As he rounded the corner at the bottom he almost ran headlong into McNair. "Where are you going?" McNair hissed at him.

"They're not up there. I found Crabbe unconscious. I think they're trying to escape."

It was hard to say which spell hit first, but the stunner and the bonebreaker collided as they hit McNair in the chest at the same time and there was a sickening shattering sound as McNair's body seemed to slam into an invisible truck before he fell down, still and unmoving as blood seeped out of his nose and ears.

"To the floo," Hermione said, urging the horrified Mrs. Potter past the crushed body as she scooped up McNair's wand.

They dashed into the living room. A fire burst into life before them, erupting into brilliant shades of green, and out stepped Sirius and James. They had their wands raised and they went off with a bang.

Had Hermione been a moment later with her shield charm Regulus would have taken the full brunt of the blasting spell. Instead, he flew backwards, his mask flying away as he hit the back wall of the room. Hermione too was thrown back, landing hard against the purple loveseat off to the side. Ages of practice with Regulus paid off as her hand reacted, sending back another spell in turn, disarming James. "Take them!" she yelled at James, pointing McNair's wand at them.

He blinked at her, bewildered, but his parents ran as Reeser came into the room, shooting off a spell that exploded at their feet.

"I've got him, go!" Sirius yelled, sending a hex at Reeser, who sidestepped and began to duel him.

James muttered something into the fire and threw down the floo powder as the fire flared green and he helped his parents back through it.

Hermione pulled the invisibility cloak back over herself and joined in, sending a stunner at Reeser's head. He fell back and Sirius raised his wand, shaking in rage as he stabbed his wand at Reeser and shouted "Avada kedavra!"

Hermione stared in horror, frozen, as Sirius turned and crossed the room, pointing his wand at the crumpled heap that was Regulus. He stood over him, his wand pointed directly at his heart. "NO!" Hermione screamed, throwing herself forward, both wands pointed at Sirius.

His face was pure anguish at the sight of his own brother's face.

"Go, Sirius! Just go!" she screamed. A streak of violet light struck the wall behind them and Sirius rounded on Rodolphus, who had come through the back hallway.

"_Avada K-_"

But Hermione was faster. She sent two stunning spells from the wands in her hands and hit both Sirius and Rodolphus from under the invisibility cloak. Hurrying to Regulus's side, she checked to be sure he was still breathing. Thankful for Cassiopeia's teachings she healed the wound on the back of his head.

Groaning, Regulus blinked his eyes awake. "Are they-"

"The Potters got out. But Regulus, you have to go. Take Rodolphus and get out of here."

"But Sirius-"

"I'll take care of him. But you have to go."

Regulus nodded and Hermione helped him stand and cross the room. He apologized for leaning on her and Hermione just shook her head and made a shooing gesture with her hand. "Go, Regulus."

There were sounds coming from upstairs: a groan and loud thundering footsteps. Regulus grabbed Rodolphus by the arm and disapparated with him.

Hermione threw a quick stunner the moment Crabbe rounded the corner and then disapparated with Sirius.

* * *

The inside of the ramshackle house was covered in dust and cobwebs. Sirius lay unconscious on the sagging, shredded couch against the wall across from the boarded up fireplace. Hermione paced back and forth, checking the coin in her pocket every few seconds, waiting for word from Regulus. She knew he had to report back to Voldemort after the mission failed and she was dreading it. She knew what happened to Voldemort's followers when they failed him. Biting her lip and checking the coin for the umpteenth time, she prayed that he was okay. She had hoped that saving Rodolphus would help him, but now she wasn't so sure. Voldemort was terrifying and merciless in his anger. She ran her finger over the coin again, but there was still no message. She stowed it and tapped the wand that had belonged to Reeser in her hand. It sparked every time she did it, like a hissing, spitting cat being forced into a tub of soapy water. All of a sudden it flew out of her hand across the room.

"You're not very smart for a Death Eater," Sirius said in a cold, level voice. He sat up on the sofa, flicking aside his long roguish hair as he pointed his wand at Hermione. "Is this your first time kidnapping someone?"

"I didn't kidnap you. I'm keeping you safe," she said irritably.

"And why should I believe that?"

She scowled. "Because why else would I let you keep your wand?"

"I assumed you were an idiot." Hermione rolled her eyes at the irony. It was Sirius who had told her she really was the brightest witch of her age after they had first met. Hermione snorted and resumed pacing as she pulled out the coin again, rubbing it in her hand.

She wasn't fazed as Sirius stood, pointing his wand at her. "What is that? In your hand?"

"It's a coin. Regulus and I use it to communicate."

"So you are working with them. The Death Eaters."

Hermione snarled now, eyeing Sirius with intense frustration. "No, I'm not one of them. And neither is Regulus. Not really."

"That mask of his says otherwise."

Hermione rounded on him, standing toe to toe with him and jabbing her finger up under his chin. She wasn't even holding a wand. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"You think I don't know my own brother?"

"No," she snapped. "I don't think you know him at all. How many years has it been since you talked to your brother? Do you have any idea what he's had to face, alone, since you cut him out of your life?"

"I know all I need to know."

"No you don't. Otherwise you would know he's been fighting against Voldemort. You would know that he put his life in danger to save the Potters tonight. Not for James and Lily, but for you!" She stabbed him in the chest with her finger before turning away in frustration to check the coin again. Still nothing.

"Regulus wasn't there to save the Potters, he was there in his Death Eater robes and mask to kill them!"

"If that were true they would be dead, Sirius. We were trying to get them out safely!"

"I don't believe you."

"You don't have to believe me. It's the truth. Talk to the Potters and they'll tell you. Or better yet, talk to Regulus. Your brother needs your help, Sirius. Please," she pressed her hands to her forehead in frustration, "Just talk to him! Try and make things right. He needs you, Sirius."

"Why should I? He's a Death Eater now. He doesn't need anyone."

"He's a person. And I've already told you, he's not a Death Eater! He's a spy! He's been working with Dumbledore to help the Order and keep Lily and James safe. If you would just talk to him you would know that. Please, Sirius, you're his family!"

"He has a new family now. He made that clear when he took the mark."

"He did that to save you, Sirius! You owe him."

"Owe him? I don't owe him anything."

"You owe him your life! Your mother would have killed you if not for his sacrifice! How dare you!"

"You think you know everything, huh? Who the hell are you anyway?"

"I'm his friend. You can trust me."

"I'm not in the habit of trusting Death Eaters. Or their friends." He stepped back and looked her up and down, eyes roaming over her body in her silk night dress. She hadn't had time to change when she got the message. "Or are you his whore?" His words stung like a slap and he smiled, knowing he had gotten under her skin. "That's right. We have spies too. Courting three Death Eaters. What, one wasn't enough for you, Miss Krum? Do you have them one at a time or do you take all three of them together?" He took a step closer to her and she backed away. "What's the matter? Nothing to say? Or are they all just that disappointing in the sack? Is that why you brought me here? Did you want to try out the original Black heir? I'm sure I'd be better than all three."

Hermione sneered in disgust and drew her wand from her back pocket, fuming. "You listen to me, and you listen well, Sirius. I don't give a damn what you think about me. So go ahead and call me whatever you'd like, because I'm not here for me, I'm here to help Regulus."

"Such devotion, Miss Krum. I'm touched. But you're barking up the wrong tree."

"Is it so difficult for you to believe that your brother is a good person? That he wants you alive and safe? He needs you, Sirius. And your friends need you. So you're going to man up and act like a proper Gryffindor and listen to what I have to say. You're all in much graver danger than you realize."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then Lily and James are as good as dead. Because believe it or not, we are on your side."

"Are you telling me Lily and James are in danger?"

"Of course they are! Why do you think that Voldemort went after the Potters tonight? He's trying to draw out Lily and James. He wants to kill Lily's son, and he has no problem killing her while she's pregnant. They need to go into hiding. I saw James tonight! Don't you see that Voldemort is trying to draw them out by going after James's parents?! You have to help them, Sirius. Hide them. Use a Fidellius Charm and be their secret keeper. But listen to me, it has to be you. Not Peter or Remus or Dumbledore or anyone else. You. Only you can protect them. Use whatever spell you know, hide their home like Grimmauld Place. Just keep them safe. You're their best chance. And you have a responsibility as Harry's godfather to protect him!"

He raised an eyebrow. "James hasn't asked me to be godfather. And they haven't decided on a name for the baby." He smiled and Hermione went white. "So the rumors about you are true. You do know we have spies all our own, right? Oh yes, we've heard about your little gift. You might fool other people with your divination shit, but I don't buy it."

She hadn't realized his slow advance until she felt her back hit the wall behind her. Despite having her wand pointed at him, Sirius had backed her into a corner. He placed his hands on either side of the wall next to her head and leaned in offensively close, his smug smile half a snarl. "Now tell me what your little plan is. Why were you at the Potter's tonight?"

"I told you, I was there because Regulus contacted me. He found out what the plan was and called me to help. I'm telling you the truth, Sirius! We were trying to save them."

"Bullshit. He made his choice. He chose to join the Death Eaters and do Voldemort's bidding. No one stops being a Death Eater."

"He's your little brother! And he only chose to join to save your life after you refused!"

His face darkened. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"No, Sirius, you don't know what you're talking about. He's the one who took you to your aunt's after your mother left you bleeding on the floor! Regulus didn't have a choice!"

"He could have refused!"

"No, he couldn't! He's not like you, Sirius! He didn't have anywhere to go, unlike you!"

"He could have come with me." A flicker of doubt and regret flashed across his face though.

Hermione wondered if he had thought about what it must have been like for Regulus alone in that house after he left. Wondered if he should have asked the Potters to take in Regulus as well. "I'm sure your mother would just let that happen. She's already proven she's willing to write off and even murder one son. Use your brain, Sirius. Walburga would never let her only remaining son and possible heir walk away unscathed."

"You think you know my own family better than me? Huh? I lived in that household for sixteen years. I think I know my own family better than you, you little foreign bitch. Regulus had his eye on joining Voldemort's gang long before I left."

"Of course he did! What other possibility could there be for a pureblood Slytherin from your family?! He didn't have your friends, Sirius! He didn't even have his older brother once you left for school. Were you as cruel to him as you were to Snape?"

"Don't pretend you-"

"No! Don't you pretend you're innocent or blameless. You're his brother! You're supposed to protect him! But you didn't. You left. You left him all alone. You may have gotten out of that house, but he's still trapped there. So don't you dare blame him for fighting his battles differently than you did. I don't know that brother that you grew up with, but the Regulus I know is willing to lay down his life to bring down Voldemort." Her eyes were filled with tears of rage. "For you! Because he still loves you!"

"He's made it perfectly clear that I'm dead to him."

"That's not true, Sirius. Not at all. He loves you. And I know that you love him, even if you can't admit it. If he-" She couldn't bring herself to say "dies." She just couldn't. She swallowed. "If something happens to him, and you don't fix this rift between the two of you, you will regret it for the rest of your life." She squeezed her eyes shut. "And he needs your help. Because I might not be there to help next time he decides to disobey Voldemort's orders. So get over it and be a man."

"What the hell gives you the right to talk to me like that? You think I'm going to take orders from some Death Eater whore?"

Her grip on her wand tightened at the stale smell of his breath in her face. "Call me whatever you like, Sirius. I really don't care. I only brought you here to keep you safe."

"I don't need your protection."

"Really?! Because it looked to me like you just killed someone back there and if I hadn't stopped you, you would have killed again!"

"What's it matter? One less Death Eater in the world is no skin off my back. I know you'll be sorry there's one less to fuck."

"Screw you, you mangy cur. I'm only trying to help!"

"Is that how you help? By screwing Death Eaters? Is that why you came as you did," he sneered, his eyes trailing down her silk nightdress, resting on every curve and sharp angle of her body.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, uncomfortable.

"Do they call you over for a good fuck after they're done killing?"

"Shove your wand up your ass, Sirius. I told you already, I came to help Regulus. And I'm here to help you."

"I don't need your help. I don't want it."

"If you don't fix things with Regulus and something happens to him, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

"No, I don't think I will. He's not my brother anymore. He's just another Death Eater. And you're just his whore."

She was getting really irritated by now. "You might think my gift of foresight is rubbish, but I've seen your future, Sirius. In the future we're friends and you trust me. Please, take my word for it. I know you. I know you still care for your brother. All that I ask is that if something happens to me, you stand by Regulus. He needs you."

"Regulus doesn't need anyone. He never has."

"Everyone needs someone. He's my friend. And he's a good man."

Sirius barked a laugh. "A good man? Death Eaters are not good men. And a masked Death Eater is someone who has killed for Voldemort. Trust me, he's not a good man."

"You've killed. Tell me, are you a good man?" she shot back.

His eyes twinkled in the dark room. "No. I'm not." And then his lips were crashing against hers and his tongue was in her mouth, and her knee came up between his legs, hard.

He crumpled to the ground, clutching between his legs, laughing and groaning as she pointed her wand at him and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. "What the bloody hell?! Ugh! You even kiss like a dog!"

"Couldn't resist, sweetheart," he said in a strained voice as he waved his wand to relieve the pain.

And then he lunged at her, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her against the wall. Panic gripped her as his eyes flashed dangerously. "Had to see if you had some special kind of kiss to ensnare three Death Eaters. And I can't resist a woman in a silk nightdress."

He winked at her and she cringed in revulsion. "Let me go, Sirius. You don't want to hurt me."

"You sure about that, sweetheart?"

She tried to move her wrist, but he caught it and slammed it against the wall too, knocking her wand from her hand. It clattered to the ground. "Let go," she squeaked as he tightened his grip around her throat.

"Why should I? Why should I trust you? This could be a trap. Are you expecting your little Death Eater boys to come? Give me a reason, or I swear I'll do it," he said, pointing his wand at her.

"The cloak. Behind you."

She was turning purple. He released her and she slid down the wall, clutching at her throat and coughing.

"Keep your hands up where I can see them," he warned. She did so and his eyes lingered on the shining red scar on her wrist before he crossed to the table and picked up the cloak in his hand. Confusion furrowed his brow. "But this... this is James's cloak. How did you get-"

Hermione dove for her wand and jabbed it at him before he had time to react. Black cords tightened around him and the more he struggled the tighter they became. His wand went soaring across the room into her outstretched hand. She crossed the room and pulled the invisibility cloak from his hands, pushing him back onto the couch where he landed with a grunt. "You've got a real talent for pissing people off, don't you? Fine, if you don't believe me, maybe you'll listen to someone else," she snapped, grabbing her beaded bag from off the top of the bookcase. Irritated and massaging her throat, she pulled the portrait of Phineas Nigellus from the bag and set it on the mantle above the fireplace.

"What's going on?" Phineas asked, staring around the room in distaste until his eyes landed on Sirius. "Merlin's beard, what have you done to my grandson!"

"He was being an ass," she choked, her voice strained. "Phineas, talk some sense into him. I can't deal with his stubbornness anymore. Try and convince him Regulus is on Dumbledore's side now. I'm going to wait for Regulus upstairs before I make him an only child."

Slinging the cloak over her arm, she paused in front of Sirius. "Don't bother trying to get out of the ropes. They'll constrain you no matter how you try to resist. Listen to Phineas. I doubt there's anything I can say to convince you that I am telling the truth, but I am." Stalking off towards the stairs, she leaned over the bannister and added, "Oh, and by the way, despite the fact that you're a despicable asshole, your brother still loves you. If you had ever seen him cast a patronus, you would know that. Guess what form his patronus takes, _Padfoot_."

With that she stomped up the creaky old stairs and slammed the door to the destroyed bedroom behind her, but not before she heard Sirius make a rude comment to which Phineas replied, "Don't let her catch you saying that. Besides, she grows on you."

* * *

It was nearly three in the morning when Hermione heard from Regulus. He didn't arrive for another hour after that, but when he apparated to her side she threw her arms around him and held him as tightly as she could. He winced and she made him sit on the bed as she checked over his wounds. He had several bruised and fractured ribs which she healed with a bottle of Skele Gro she had stolen from Cassiopeia's house months previously.

When his breathing eased she told him she had Sirius downstairs. "Will you see him? I think the two of you should talk."

His face darkened. "That's a bad idea. He won't believe anything I say. He doesn't trust me."

"He's your brother. And you should be the one to tell him about what happened tonight with the Potters. Tell him that you were trying to save them."

"Hermione…"

"You're doing this, Regulus! He won't listen to me and we're going to need someone besides Dumbledore to vouch for us when this is over. Or else we'll both end up in Azkaban for the rest of our lives!"

Running his fingers through his hair, he shrugged off his Death Eater robes and handed them to her. "Fine. But I won't promise not to hex him."

"Same here. He's a real ass. Now come on. He's tied up downstairs."

She went before him down the stairs and was glad she had restrained Sirius because he seethed from his spot on the couch as Regulus entered the room. "Stop thrashing like a fish," she snapped, pointing Sirius's own wand at him.

Regulus folded his arms across his chest, standing across the room from Sirius, a frown on his face.

Phineas sighed and said, "I tried talking some sense into him, but the boy won't listen. He always was stubborn and pigheaded."

"Thanks for trying, I suppose," Hermione said dryly.

"Look who it is, my baby brother."

"Sirius," Regulus said coldly.

"Reggie." Sirius sneered.

"The Potters are safe. James got them out."

"I was there, Reggie. I saw what happened with my own eyes."

"You only think you know, Sirius. But once again, you're wrong."

"Am I?"

"I called Hermione to help me get the Potters to safety."

"And why should I believe that?" Regulus glowered at him, his arms folded across his chest. "It's the truth. Euphemia and Monty will tell you."

"Why would you save them? What's in it for you?"

"They're your family, Sirius. They took you in. I owe them, if nothing else."

That struck Sirius, who eyed him warily for a moment. "If that were true, and you saved them you would be dead. Voldemort would kill you."

"He doesn't know. He thinks Rodolphus and I were the only ones to get out after the Order arrived."

"Bullshit."

"No, it's true. Remus and Kingsley showed up afterwards with Frank." Regulus grew quiet for a moment. "The Potters weren't the only targets tonight. Lucius, Goyle, Yaxley, and Dolohov attacked Lily's parents. They weren't as lucky as the Potters. They're dead."

Sirius swallowed, staring at his brother's silver eyes, so much like his own, with intense dislike. He did not want to believe him. But Sirius had grown up with Regulus and he knew when he was lying. "Why should I believe a word from a Death Eater?"

"Sirius! Regulus is telling the truth! We've all been telling you the truth! Stop being such a dunce and recognize when you are wrong!" Phineas shouted, standing up in his portrait.

"I'm not wrong! This is some kind of trick to get information. But it won't work, Reggie. You know I can take anything you can dish out. Or is that why she's here? What, couldn't do it yourself? Had to get your little whore to do your torturing for you?"

Regulus flew across the room, stabbing his wand under Sirius's chin. "Apologize to her for what you just said."

"Regulus, it's fine-" Hermione began at the same time Sirius said, "Never."

The tip of Regulus's wand pressed against his throat. "You will not call her that again."

"Just calling it like I see it. How much is it for a night with her? I could show her what a real man-"

_Whack!_

Hermione was a second too late with her shield charm, as Regulus's fist collided with his brother's face. The force of the shield charm bursting between them sent Regulus flying onto his back on the floor.

Hermione extended her hand down to him. "Give me your wand."

Grimacing, he reluctantly handed it over. As he got to his feet he did a double take and stepped closer to her, moving aside her hair. Hermione saw rage bubble up in his eyes as his fingers went to her throat and gingerly touched the bruises around her neck. She winced, realizing a second too late that she had forgotten to heal them before Regulus had arrived.

"Did he do this to you?" he asked in a quiet whisper.

"Regulus, no, it's fine-"

"_Did you do this to her?!_" he shouted, rounding on Sirius, making Hermione jump. She had never heard Regulus raise his voice before and it was terrifying to see the calm, stoic mask burn away in a blaze of fiery rage. He pointed his finger at Hermione as he glared, seething over Sirius. His brother smiled at him and Regulus grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him up. Sirius spat blood in his face and Regulus pulled his fist back again. This time Hermione was quicker. The shield charm burst before them, but this time Regulus was back on his feet. He threw a chair at the shield charm, kicking and pounding on it with his fists as Sirius laughed from the other side. Regulus was pacing back and forth, like a tiger waiting to be released from its cage.

"Regulus! Stop it!" Hermione shouted from behind him.

Sirius laughed and turned to her, never taking his eyes off his brother though. "I told you, sweetheart. I know who my brother really is. He's not a good man. He's a beast, just like me. Only not as good looking."

"Give me back my wand, Hermione."

"No! You'll kill him."

"Only a little."

"You can always take these ropes off, sweetheart. Make it a fair fight."

"Regulus, please!" she begged. "He's your brother!"

"He hurt you!"

"Of course he did! He thinks this is a trap. He thinks we're holding him hostage! Don't prove him right. Sit down and explain it to him."

Regulus was still seething, but he paused in his pacing.

"Don't make me tie you up too," she threatened, pointing her wand at him.

Sirius barked a laugh.

"I'm beginning to like your little whore, Reggie. She likes it kinky."

Hermione pointed Regulus's wand at Sirius. "Call me that one more time, Sirius, and I'll hex off your family jewels."

Regulus's shadow of a smile crossed his face. "Wouldn't test her," he said, flashing his teeth at Sirius.

That wiped the rebellious smile from his face as he eyed the witch nervously.

"Sit down, Regulus," Hermione ordered, drawing up two chairs with a wave of her wand. She sat in one of them and Regulus sat beside her begrudgingly.

A painful silence filled the room as the brothers glowered at one another and Hermione waited, her arms and legs crossed, tapping her foot, for one of them to speak. "Oh, come on!" She snapped, giving Regulus a look. "Talk to him."

Regulus frowned, glaring coldly at Sirius, who opened his mouth to speak. "No! Not you. You're going to listen to what he has to say without interruption. I'll gag you if I have to."

Sirius snorted derisively, but settled back into the couch, shutting his mouth.

She shook her head and buried her face in her hands, sighing with contempt. "I don't understand. How can you two act like this? How can you hate each other so much? Because I know you still care about each other, even if you two are both too cowardly to admit it!"

"It's his fault," the two of them said at the same time.

Hermione groaned and turned to Regulus. "Tell me what happened."

"I'm not really sure where to start."

"Well...maybe start with what tore you apart. From what Cassiopeia said, you used to be so close."

"We were. Until he left for Hogwarts."

"Oh shove off, Reggie. I didn't abandon you at school. I wrote to you every week."

"For the first few months, yeah. But not much after that."

"Do you want me to apologize for having friends and a life at school? I don't remember that being a crime."

"You and your gang, you mean. Once you met Potter the two of you wrought havoc all over the school."

"So?"

"_So_? Do you know how furious you made our mother when she got letters from the school every other week because you couldn't behave?"

"I heard her howlers, don't you worry."

"I'm not talking about howlers, you stupid prick."

"You want to blame me for going to school? Having friends? Having a life outside of you and our bitch of a mother?"

"I don't blame you for leaving, Sirius. I'm glad you left."

"Yeah, you made that perfectly clear when you took your anger out on James."

"James was an ass, Sirius. So what if I tried to knock him off his broom or curse him in the hallways? It's no worse than he did to me and it isn't nearly as bad as when you tried to kill Severus!"

"Snivellus made his own choice."

"You knew you were leading him to a werewolf and he only survived because James rescued him! You really don't give a shit about other people, do you?"

"Why should I? No one ever gave a shit about me!"

"I did! I cared! Don't you realize why Slytherins stopped trying to curse you? Because they were afraid of what I would do to them if they were discovered!"

"Bullshit."

"It's true. You're only alive because other people have been keeping you safe. Did you know that Aunt Cassie threatened to go to the ministry after our mother nearly killed you? And I was the one who convinced Uncle Alphard to give you gold after you moved out of the Potters' home."

"You're no hero, Reggie. Don't pretend you were the one keeping me out of harm's way all those years."

"No. I'm not a hero. I never pretended to be that."

"You did this to yourself. You joined Voldemort and his gang willingly."

"Willingly?" Regulus scoffed. "What choice did I have? Join or be murdered by my own mother?"

"You could have left."

"Where the hell was I supposed to go where she couldn't find me?"

"You wanted it, Reggie. You wanted the mark. You wanted to join."

"I was prepared to do what was expected of me! There is a price that I paid for being the better son in our mother's eyes, Sirius! You should know that."

"You think I forgot how cruel our mother was? Why do you think I left!?"

"You didn't leave, Sirius. Stop telling yourself it was a choice. We both know you don't get to leave that house willingly."

A silence fell as the two of them stared coldly at one another. "You still didn't have to join the Death Eaters. Why Reggie? Why did you join?"

Regulus shook his head sadly. "I didn't have a choice, Sirius. I told you, there is a price for being the good son in a family like ours. I had to join. So I did."

"How old were you when you took it?"

"Sixteen. But I agreed to it the day I took you to Aunt Cassie's."

"But why? Why not come to the Order?"

Regulus snorted. "Because who would have believed that? You don't even believe me now, when it's true."

Sirius recoiled a bit, biting his tongue.

"It is true. Regulus has been working with the Order, with Dumbledore, since summer of last year. And he's been working against Voldemort since before that." She nodded her head encouragingly at Regulus.

Sirius remained still as he listened to Regulus tell him about Kreacher and the cave. With a reassuring nod from Hermione he told Sirius about the horcruxes, explaining in detail how they had already destroyed three of them, but still needed to find two more. Hermione showed him the broken remains of the locket, the diary, and the diadem.

"Horcruxes? As in more than one?" Sirius balked. Regulus and Hermione nodded, as did Phineas. "And pray tell, how exactly did a witch suddenly appear in the middle of Voldemort's secret underground inferi-filled lake?"

Regulus looked to her and Hermione bit her lip. "That's a bit complicated. And I'm afraid we don't have time for it now."

Sirius looked from one to the other suspiciously. "Does Dumbledore know about the horcruxes?"

"Yes, he knows," Regulus said. "We've been keeping him updated, but he's trying to keep it quiet, otherwise if it gets out we're looking for them our cover will be blown and Voldemort will win."

"Saying his name now, are you? Or is he still your Dark Lord?"

Regulus released a sigh of frustration. "You have every right to be doubtful, Sirius, but I hope you will see that everything we've said is true."

"It's hard to believe anything when a Death Eater has you tied up."

Hermione waved her wand and the ropes fell away.

Sirius groaned and rubbed his arms where the cords had bit into him. "Mind giving us the room, sweetheart? My brother and I have some things we need to discuss privately."

"Hermione can stay. Anything you have to say, you can say in front of her."

Sirius growled in irritation from deep within his chest. "You might trust the witch, little brother, but I don't. So if we're going to talk about things, I'd rather she wasn't here."

"You can trust Hermione."

"Really? Because it seems to me she's seeing more than one Death Eater and playing double agent pretty convincingly. The Order also hasn't been able to verify her identity or whereabouts prior to last summer. So if you want to talk, man to man, then she needs to leave the two of us alone." Sirius raised an eyebrow and ticked a distrusting smile at her.

"She can stay."

"It's alright, Regulus. I'll go." She stood and put a hand on Regulus's shoulder reassuringly. "But, I'll be just upstairs. With the wands," she added, eyeing Sirius and his false smile as she crossed and climbed the stairs.

Barely ten minutes had passed before she heard raised voices and the sounds of bodies crashing into inanimate objects. Running down the stairs, she rounded the corner and came upon the two of them locked in a brawl. As she rounded the corner she saw Sirius in his huge, bear-like dog form leap onto Regulus's back, tearing his shirt with his claws as Regulus reached for a chair and hit him with it. Sirius reverted back to his human form and launched himself back at Regulus, tackling him to the ground as he grabbed him around the middle. Fists connected with flesh and elbows were thrown as they fought like a pack of wolves.

Afraid of causing more damage, Hermione tried to get a good angle when all of a sudden Sirius froze and pushed his brother away from him.

It was then that Hermione quickly put up a shield charm between the two of them. "Seriously? I'm gone for ten minutes and you resort to brawling?"

But it was as if neither of them had even noticed her or the shield charm. Sirius was looking at Regulus horror struck. "I-I didn't know it was that bad. You never said anything." And then Hermione saw Regulus's torn shirt and the exposed scars along with the fresh bloody scratches from where Sirius had jumped on him.

Regulus leaned against the wall, clutching at his dislocated shoulder. "It was my burden to bear," Regulus said quietly, avoiding his brother's gaze as he turned to Hermione, who hurried over to help him with his wounds. Her wand passed over the scratches on his back and popped his shoulder back into its socket.

Sirius pressed his hands to the invisible shield between them.

"You should have told me. I could have helped."

Regulus said nothing, rolling his shoulder to test it. "It would have only made it worse if I had."

"Reggie…"

"Let's go," Regulus said to Hermione and she nodded.

"You go ahead. I'll get Phineas and clean up."

He said nothing, accepting his wand and disapparating.

Hermione crossed the room and pulled Phineas from the mantelpiece, sliding the portrait into her bag. Her hand lingered inside it and she pulled out a small folded piece of paper. "This was Regulus's note from the fake locket he meant to leave behind for Voldemort. I think you should read it. You should know, Sirius, when Regulus went into that cave he didn't plan on coming back. He found his own way out of Voldemort's clutches." She put Sirius's wand on the top of the note and looked up at him. "I don't care if you trust me or not, but Regulus is putting himself in danger. If something happens to me, I hope you will stand by him." She wanted to say more, but she was tired of defending herself, tired of trying to convince someone who didn't want to believe or trust her. With a final sad, longing look at Sirius she broke the shield charm and disapparated as well.

* * *

Regulus was standing with his hands in his pockets as the wind whipped across his face above the high cliffs. Approaching slowly, but making sure she made noise so as not to startle him, Hermione came to stand by his side. For long moments neither of them spoke. The waves crashed against the cliffs and the night sky above twinkled with shining stars and a brilliant bright moon.

"I didn't know about the Evans family. Or the Potters. I knew Harry's parents had been killed and his grandparents weren't around, so I assumed they had passed on before he was born. How did I not see this coming?"

"It's not your fault," Regulus said tensely.

"It doesn't feel that way," she admitted, hugging her arms to herself. She glanced over at him, his stoic mask in place once more. "Are you okay?"

He took a slow deep breath in, filling his lungs with the cold sea air before he released the breath. "Not really."

She nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I think the conversation with your brother went as well as I expected it might."

He made a sound of agreement, shrugging his shoulders a bit. "I suppose. Honestly, I'm surprised we're both still breathing."

Hermione chuckled and bit her lip.

Regulus turned to her and stepped in front of her, bending his head down to kiss her forehead. "I'm sorry he hurt you. I never meant to put you in harm's way," he said softly, healing the bruises at her throat.

Hermione shrugged. "We do stupid things sometimes, for the people we love. He didn't mean to. He didn't know we were trying to help."

Regulus pressed the tip of his wand to her neck and the final bruise faded away. "Do you think it was a mistake? Telling him?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. He should know. He still cares about you, Regulus. But it's hard for him to accept a different truth than the one he thinks he knows." She raised herself up on her tiptoes and brushed his lips with hers. "Come to bed. It's been a long day. You need the rest." He did not argue as she took his hand and brought him into the cottage. Pulling back the covers of the bed, Hermione climbed in and watched Regulus unbutton the tattered shirt and shrug it off. He pulled off his belt and sat on the edge of the bed to untie his shoes and Hermione knelt behind him, wrapping her arms around him as she kissed along the scars of his upper back, lightly brushing his hair.

His body tensed before it slowly began to relax at her touch. He lay back down on the bed and curled up on his side, pulling Hermione against him, one arm wrapped around her stomach protectively. He breathed in the clean lavender and sea salt scent of her hair and all the emotion and darkness of the night that swirled around in his head, screaming at him, haunting him, faded away as he closed his eyes.

* * *

The _Daily Prophet_ had a field day with the article about the Potters the next day. It was the first time that the Dark Mark had been found outside of a home where the family who resided there survived. Crabbe had been captured by aurors and sent to Azkaban by Barty Crouch without an official trial. There was wild speculation as to what happened to the Potters, who had not been seen since but were reported alive and well by Albus Dumbledore. The two dead Death Eaters, McNair and Reeser, were mentioned, although the article clearly skirted the fact that they were found dead at the scene when the aurors arrived to make it seem like the ministry had played more of a part in the action than they had. Lily's parents' deaths were hardly mentioned. Probably to keep the spirits of the readers up. People wanted to believe that the aurors could keep them safe. But the near-vacant streets were evidence enough of the truth.

Regulus was walking home in the rain, carrying a black umbrella over his head as he passed by the muggle streets. A black dog was waiting for him at the end of the alley he usually cut through. It was a big, hulking hairy beast, and the sight of it made Regulus stiffen. He drew his wand and pointed it at the dog, but in the blink of an eye the dog disappeared and Sirius approached him with his hands up, a cocky half-grin on his cheek. "Down, little brother. I just want to talk."

"I seem to remember our last talk ending rather poorly." Regulus did not lower his wand.

Sirius slowed a few paces away and lowered his hands to his sides. "Look, Reggie, I just want to talk, I swear." He pulled his wand from his pocket, maintaining eye contact with Regulus as he set it on the ground between them.

"Not having a wand didn't stop you before either," Regulus responded dryly, keeping his wand level with his brother's face.

"Reggie, please. Just listen. I talked with the Potters and they said you were trying to help them escape with the girl from last night."

"Hermione," Regulus interjected with a sneer.

"Right," Sirius said slowly, avoiding his brother's eyes as he recalled the offensive names he had used instead. "They told me you woke them up and protected them. I'm sorry I doubted you."

"You should have believed me from the start. Or Hermione. Or Phineas. But you never seem to believe anyone who isn't a Potter. Not even your own family."

Sirius winced and frowned. "I spoke with Dumbledore. He vouched for you both. He said you helped with that whole basilisk thing too. He said I should trust you."

Regulus scoffed. After all the attempts, this is what it took to convince his own brother he wasn't a monster? "Glad to hear it," Regulus replied viciously, striding past him.

"Reggie, wait!"

"Just go, Sirius. It's what you're best at." Regulus didn't pause to look back as he exited the alley and walked onto the street, the scent of wet dog still lingering in his nose.


	29. Chapter 29: Into the Rain

**Chapter 29: Into the Rain**

It was an overcast evening. Damp leaves covered the path ahead like painted cobblestones. Hermione walked along with her arm tucked in the crook of Evan's as he led her through the extensive park. The onslaught of rain had been good for the grass and the trees, which sprouted fresh greenery, but most of the bushes and shrubs they passed were still covered with damp buds not quite ready to bloom.

"I fear we are too early in the season to appreciate the grounds in their true beauty. Spring is late this year," he commented, turning her down a path through the tall trees.

The sky overheard seemed to grow darker still, and Hermione felt a few delicate sprinkles of rain begin to fall. "Should we turn back?" she asked, glancing at Evan as he too appraised the weather.

"Don't tell me a little rain is going to put you off our outing," he teased with a grin.

"It might put a bit of a damper on it if we're both soaking wet."

"Nonsense. A bit of rain could only make things better. Then I'd have an excuse to get you out of your wet clothes."

"I'm perfectly capable of performing a drying charm, thank you very much."

Evan sighed, feigning a lament. "If only you were not such a brilliant and talented witch. My plots to seduce you would be far more effective."

"I'd say your attempts have certainly proved effective."

"Yet clearly not as effective as I should hope."

He kissed her hand and transfigured a stick into an umbrella. She huddled closer to him underneath it as the rain drops began to fall in earnest.

"Once again your attempts to bring us closer together have been successful," she giggled, gripping his arm tighter and leaning in closer to stay dry.

"Surely you cannot blame me for the weather? I cannot control when it rains."

"No, but I have the distinct feeling that you knew it would rain at some point, and you planned to use it to your advantage to drive me into your arms."

"Planned seems a little egotistical. I certainly _hoped_." He kissed her cheek and wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her close as he led her through the forest.

"Really, Evan, shouldn't we head back? It's freezing out here."

"There's a spot with some decent cover just up ahead. We can rest there until the rain stops."

And sure enough, as they rounded a corner they came up to a stone structure, similar to a gazebo with a large statue in the center surrounded by delicate stone flowers and rising columns covered in ivy. The statue depicted a woman in a flowing dress, her hands extended delicately as if to embrace a lover. "The Temple of Aphrodite. I thought you might like to see it." As Hermione got closer she gaped at the sight of the towering statue and the domed ceiling covered in flowers. All around the temple candles flickered into life as she stepped up the stairs. They gave off a faint pink color instead of an orangey glow.

"Do you like it?" Evan asked, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

"I do. It's incredible!" She admired the delicate smooth stonework giving the effect of draped fabric dress clinging to skin.

"I thought it only fair for my own Aphrodite to see it." His fingers swept her hair aside and his lips touched her neck. A tingle went down her spine at the sensation, and in truth she found the place to be very romantic.

The wind picked up, making her shiver, but Evan cast a few quick spells to create an enclosed bubble of dry warmth within the temple. "Evan," she managed before he caught her lips in a kiss. The heat coming from his body drew her closer. She let out a contented sigh as Evan deepened the kiss, tilting her head up to gain better access. His hands slid down her arms to rest at her waist before sliding down around her ass, cupping her and pulling her closer.

Hermione broke away from the kiss, feeling flustered. Evan smiled at her pink cheeks and kissed her again, slowly, his hands growing bolder as her own braced against his chest. They slid over her stomach and up to her breasts, squeezing her through the extra layers of fabric. With her eyes closed a moan of longing escaped her lips. Evan pulled her closer, one hand on her back and the other tangled in her hair at the base of her neck as he responded eagerly. Hermione ran her hands over his shirt, fingertips sliding over the wet material in her hands as she unfastened the buttons. But the wet buttons were too aggravating for her trembling fingers and finally she gripped the shirt on either side, ripping it down the middle. _Where had that come from? _

Evan pulled back, panting heavily as he looked down at his exposed chest in pleasant surprise as Hermione's hands slid to his shoulders and pulled at the fabric. Evan let go with reckless abandon, ripping his arms from the constraints of the wet fabric to pull her in close, bending down to kiss her neck. She groaned, clawing at his exposed chest. His hands found the zipper at the back of her dress, sliding it down with painstaking slowness. A shiver ran up her spine.

"Evan, wait," she said, clutching the fabric to her chest.

He stopped, breaking away, breathing heavily as he looked at her with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded, but swallowed nervously. "I have... I have a scar. I-I just don't want you to worry when you see it."

He nodded, his lips tugging into a smile as he continued kissing and sucking on her neck. She shrugged off the sleeves of her dress and it fell down to her waist, clinging to her hips.

Evan's hands slid up from her waist to her breasts, tucking his fingers into the lace cup and trailing his kisses along the edge of her soft, delicate skin there. His fingers slid around to her back and her bra fell away.

Evan's eyes and fingertips rested on the mottled purple scar tissue, a curious expression on his face. "I've seen wounds like this before. It's a lesser form of fiendfyre. This-this is dark magic. Who did this to you?"

She shook her head. "It was a long time ago. It doesn't matter."

Evan's concern deepened and he put his hands on either side of her face, green eyes boring into hers. "Hermione, you can tell me."

Covering his hand with hers she attempted a smile. "I know. But it's not something I want to relive right now."

This gave him pause, but he nodded his head in understanding and kissed her again. She wrapped one of her legs around him and he hitched it up over his hip, bracing her against a column as he licked, sucked, rubbed, and gently pinched her nipples. "Evan," she sighed, fisting a hand in his hair. She could feel his hardened cock rubbing against her, begging for more contact. Her hand slid down his torso and she fumbled for a moment trying to undo the button of his pants. Once she had managed that and pulled down the zipper, she slid her hand down his lower stomach, following the trail of coarse hair until she gripped his hot, throbbing cock in her hand.

He let out a rough groan. "Oh, Hermione," he said in a hoarse whisper. He groaned again and bucked as she twisted her hand around him. He scooped her up, holding her up before he pulled her away and lowered them both to the ground. He waved his wand and several large cushions and pillows appeared before he set Hermione down.

"Lie back." His green eyes flashed and he licked his swollen lips as she obeyed, propping a cushion up under her head. "I want to taste you," he whispered against her neck and she turned to kiss him, but he was already licking down her chest, his hands pulling at her dress.

Realizing what he meant, she gripped his shoulder tightly, giving him pause. "Evan. Evan, maybe we should go slow. Things are going awfully fast."

Hearing the note of alarm in her voice he stilled and glanced up at her, pressing soft kisses along her lower stomach. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked, tickling her sides with his light touches.

"No," she gasped, and Evan smiled wickedly at her.

"Then I promise I'll go slow."

And he did. His every movement was slow and deliberate as he tugged the dress from around her bum, leaving her bare in only her knickers. And then those too were slowly inched down and Hermione dug her nails into the soft cushion. "Evan," she breathed, as he licked up her leg to her inner thigh. And then his tongue touched her and she felt a thrill of pleasure go through her as he slid it over her, slowly.

He watched her expression as he parted her legs to get better access, smiling as she let out a moan. "You're so wet," he said, licking at her entrance to slide the lubrication up to her clit. He sucked and licked, swiping over the sensitive bud as Hermione arched and squirmed underneath him. But no matter what sound she made or how many times she gasped he kept his pace slow and sweet, watching her reactions, waiting. Biting her lip as his tongue flicked over her his name left her lips, a breathy whisper. "Please, Evan. Please." At that he quickened his ministrations until a minute later when she was crying out as her orgasm rocked through her core, making her toes curl and her legs shake.

Evan licked his lips as he raised his head and she pulled him back up to her, tasting her own cum on his tongue as she kissed him hungrily. He began to remove his pants and Hermione's heart caught in her throat. Pushing her fear aside, she slid her hand down once again to wrap around him. Groaning, Evan pulled down the final layer as well as Hermione pulled him down on top of her, kissing him ravenously. She nibbled on his earlobe and buried her hands in his golden hair, writhing against him. The length of his cock slid against her, rubbing over her clit, causing her to tremble.

"Do you want me?" he asked in a low, seductive tone against her neck.

"Yes."

He circled his hips against her, sending another ripple of pleasure through her.

"Do you want me inside of you?" His hips passed over her again and she bit back a moan.

"Yes," she breathed. His hand reached down to position himself, but she froze, gripping his hand suddenly.

"Wait. Are you sure you want to do this here? Now?" She suddenly felt very exposed in the open night air, as dusk had fallen.

He grinned wickedly at her. "Would you deny Aphrodite her tribute? I want to make love to you, here and now."

"The spell," Hermione whispered, and Evan reached for his wand to perform the contraception spell. Hermione leaned back as he positioned himself before her again, kissing her neck.

"And don't worry," he breathed. "I promise I'll go slow." He slid the head of his cock inside her and after a few slow thrusts Hermione felt her body relax, taking him in.

When it was over he remained on top of her, kissing and sucking at her breasts as he extricated himself from between her legs. She rested her head against his chest as he traced circles around her arm, kissing the top of her head. "Was it good for you?" he asked kindly.

"Yes," Hermione nodded, although a growing part of her felt tremendously guilty for enjoying it.

Some part of her guilt must have shown on her face because Evan raised a concerned eyebrow. "What is it? Did I hurt you?"

"No. No, it's nothing like that."

"Then what is it?"

Hermione chewed on her lip before admitting, "I feel terribly guilty."

"Ah. I see. It must be difficult for you, being in three different relationships and caring about three different men at once."

"You seem not to be bothered by it."

Evan shrugged. "I suppose I know something you don't," he said cheekily.

"And what's that?" Oddly enough, the playful banter was putting her more at ease.

He leaned in close and whispered, "I already know who you're going to choose."

"Do you now?"

"Oh yes," he said confidently.

"Is that because you think it will be you?"

"I do hope that isn't your proposal," Evan teased, as she playfully slapped his chest and he laughed. "But I suspect you will choose me."

"And why is that?"

"Because I am the best choice."

"Oh really?"

"Really. I have all the benefits of the other two: I'm handsome, noble, wealthy, and have a solid career. But I also have an advantage over the other two: my family is not nearly as intimidating."

Hermione laughed, but agreed. "True. But there is a bit more to love than one's prospects or familial relations."

"I'm sure many poets would agree. As would our divine goddess," he gestured to the statue.

Hermione was quiet, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. "You've forgotten, too," she added, "That you all come with the same disadvantage." He raised an eyebrow at her and she traced the dark mark on his arm. "You are already bound to another."

A shadow passed across his face and he sighed. "It's true. But for you, my dear Aphrodite," he said, kissing her lips, "I would cut off my arm to give myself completely to you."

"Would you?" She lifted her head to look him in the eye.

A serene smile passed over his face and he brushed her hair aside, rubbing the pad of his thumb across her frowning lip. "I would. I'm afraid it would not actually be of much use." She raised an eyebrow, but Evan, used to her many questions, elaborated. "It's blood magic. The curse is in my blood. No matter what I do, I can't be free of it."

Hermione's heart began to beat faster in her chest. "But what if you could contain the curse?"

Evan thought for a moment, a suspicious look crossing his face. "What do you mean?" he asked slowly.

It took a great deal of effort to keep herself calm and composed. "I remember reading about an ancient druid ritual used to contain curses. Maybe it could work on your mark."

"I'm bound to him already, Hermione. The Dark Lord's mark cannot be removed."

"I'm not talking about removing it. The ritual is supposed to contain the harmful effects of curses, sealing the curse away, but not removing it."

"That does not change the fact that I am sworn to him. This is not the type of arrangement I can walk away from with my life," he explained seriously.

"I know. But the containment spell would at least give you a chance to walk away safely if you choose to."

Evan's face was somber as he looked at her, rubbing the apple of her cheek with his thumb. "My darling, it is not that simple. The Dark Lord does not need to curse me to kill me. He has others for that."

"But it could give you a chance. It could give you _a choice_. To be a man of your own free will."

That sparked something behind his eye and he looked suddenly very pained. "I lost my free will a long time ago. This is my fate. Live or die, I am bound."

"But you shouldn't be!" Tears swam in her eyes and she choked. "You should be free to make your own choices. You shouldn't have to die for him!"

"Hermione-" He reached for her, but she turned her head away, trying to blink back the tears. "Hermione, listen to me."

She shut her eyes, unable to bring herself to look at him.

"Nothing is going to hurt me."

"But you don't know that, Evan. It's dangerous! People have died! Your father already died for him. I don't want to lose you."

He pushed himself up, cupping her face is his hands and kissing her deeply. The taste of salt lingered on her lips, tainting the sweetness of their kiss. "I love you, Hermione."

Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened in shock at his declaration.

"I have loved you for some time. And I know you may not be ready to say it back to me, and I understand. But I care for you deeply, and I promise, _I promise_ _you_ I will be safe."

Hot tears cut down her cheeks. "Evan…" Sobs wracked through her and she buried her face in his shoulder as he held her tightly, rubbing her back. "Please," she begged between sobs. "Please, promise me you'll try the ritual. I can't-I can't lose you."

He kissed her head. "Of course, my darling. I promise."

* * *

Sleeping with Evan filled her with guilt. She didn't understand her feelings for him: she cared for him, certainly, and she wanted to protect him, but every time she was with him she found herself comparing him to Regulus. She _knew_ she loved Regulus. But after they spent that night in the temple together, Hermione felt like she had cheated on Regulus by giving her body to Evan. Up until that point it had been a game of sorts: a necessary deception. She had to play the part, holding his hand and kissing him, and acting like a young woman falling in love. Now it was different. Now it was much more real. She had wanted to be with him. She had begged Evan to do the ritual. She had cried at the thought of losing him. It was too unbearable. The man she knew was not at all like the one she had envisioned when reading over old clippings about Death Eaters or listening to Moody's stories. She cared for him. Truly. And she felt terrible because of it.

She avoided Regulus, skipping three of their dueling sessions because they usually ended in a little more than dueling and she couldn't bear to face him. She was certain he would know what she had done. He always read her emotions easily, commenting on her expressive face. And she couldn't bear to hurt him like that. Would he be angry? Would he want to break off their relationship once he found out? Would he call her a whore just like Sirius had? Terrified thoughts swirled around inside her head, driving her mad with guilt. She could not bear to face him. She could not bear to break his heart like that. But she also couldn't avoid him forever.

After the fourth time she cancelled on him he showed up at his aunt's home and requested that she accompany him on a surprise date. Unable to refuse in front of Cassiopeia and Higgy, Hermione accepted and he took her to a drive-in movie where they sat on a hill a fair distance away, using the extendable ears and omnioculars from Hermione's bag to enjoy the film. Regulus had even brought a pile of treats for them to snack on while they watched "Mad Max" under a large walnut tree. He leaned against the trunk, eyes glued to his omnioculars, watching intensely as he reached for another sparking cherry sucker, which caused an electric zing of static discharge the instant it touched one's tongue.

But Hermione couldn't enjoy the movie at all, no matter how much Regulus did. She shivered at the idea of what he might call her if he found out about her and Evan. Regulus wrapped her in his cloak and pulled her tight against him, misinterpreting the reason for her shivering. Casting a warming charm before stowing his wand he brushed aside her hair to kiss her neck, but she turned away from him.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, concerned.

Hermione shook her head, but Regulus knew something was bothering her, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

"Hermione, what is it? You've been acting strangely all night."

Biting her lip, she shook her head again. "It's nothing. Really, I'm fine."

He wasn't fooled for a second and tried again in a gentle, coaxing voice. "You can tell me, whatever it is."

But she shook her head and stiffened as he reached for her hand.

"Is it about Evan?" he asked quietly.

The hair on the back of her neck rose. Twisting around to look at him, she tried to discern what he meant exactly. One look at his face told her he knew.

"It's okay. I know," he told her quietly, confirming her fears. His voice was soft and gentle and she had expected rage and anger, yet somehow his kindness was worse.

Her brow creased and hot tears flooded her eyes. "I'm so sorry-"

He shushed her with a chaste kiss. "You don't have to apologize to me."

Tears dripped down her cheeks as all her self-torment rose to the surface.

"Are you alright?" Regulus asked as he saw the pained and tortured expression on her face. "He didn't force you, did he?"

Biting back a quiet sob she shook her head wordlessly.

"It's okay," Regulus repeated, pulling her into a tight hug.

When she found her breath again she wiped at her eyes and cheeks. "Do you hate me?"

"Of course not." He kissed the top of her head. "I love you... Although I must admit I hate Evan quite a bit right now... but I still love you."

She tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a hiccup. "How-How did you know?"

He rolled his eyes. "Evan made a point of running into me at the ministry to gloat about how well things were going with you two."

Hermione's cheeks paled as her mind jumped to conclusions about what Evan had boasted about, mortified as she pictured him telling Regulus about their sexual escapades, in a public place no less. "He didn't," she gasped, covering her mouth.

"Oh, he didn't say anything explicit, but with his smug smile and line of questioning it wasn't too hard to discern what had happened."

Hermione glanced down at her hands in her lap. "Are you upset with me?"

"I can't say I was thrilled to find out from Evan, but I'm pretty sure I would hate him no matter what."

Nothing had prepared her for this kind, measured, understanding reaction. "How come you're not jealous?"

"Not jealous? Oh, I'm wildly jealous."

She looked at him in surprise.

"I'm still a Slytherin and a man who's in love with you. I assure you, I quite selfishly want you all to myself…. But…" he added, casting his eyes downward at the grass he was mindlessly plucking from the ground. "I know that you have to get close to them, and that includes... romantic interactions," he grumbled the last few words, obviously pained. Then he sighed, rolling a clover flower in his fingers, recomposing himself. "But you love me and I love you and I trust you. And I respect your personal freedom and your decisions. I don't think you were doing it to hurt me. As evidenced by the fact that you've clearly felt so guilty you've been avoiding me for a week and a half."

Color rose in her cheeks as she realized now how foolish she had been in trying to avoid him. Touched by what he had said, she found herself speechless for several moments. "I've felt so terrible, Regulus. I really do love you. The last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you."

"I know. And I love you. But I'm also your friend. It's okay to tell me things, especially if you're hurting… Although maybe if it's things like this I'd appreciate it if you kept the details to yourself."

This got a chuckle from her and she raised a mischievous eyebrow at him. "Not even if you're better?"

Regulus had not been expecting that, given his limited experience with women in general, not to mention as the youngest of the three men he knew he was the least experienced.

Hermione laughed at the puzzled, but pleased expression on his face. "And bigger," she whispered conspiratorially from behind her hand, as if anyone on the empty hill might hear them.

"Can't say I ever wanted to know that, but now that I do I feel significantly better."


	30. Chapter 30: Skulking in the Night

**Chapter 30: Skulking in the Night**

Evan had apparently also taken it upon himself to inform Rab that things were going very well, based on the sour expression Rab tried to hide from her on their next date out on a carriage ride. He had tried to snog her passionately, several times, but Hermione had rebuked his advances, claiming that she was uncomfortable with such public displays of affection in front of their carriage driver. He had backed off then, but soon took every advantage to pull her into a corner and snog.

Tonight he was showing her around the grounds of the Lestrange Manor as stars twinkled overhead.

"You can relax," he told her as she jumped at the shadow of a hedge. "My brother and his dear wife are out of the country. They won't be bothering us."

Hermione nodded her head, breathing a sigh of relief. Rab smiled at her and chuckled to himself. "You really are nervous around others, aren't you?"

Hermione licked her lips. "Well, your brother doesn't seem to like me very much. And after the stories I've heard of his wife, I can't say I'm eager to meet her either." She had the distinct feeling that Rab was intentionally keeping Bellatrix and Rodolphus away from her. While she had participated in several suppers with Evan and his family, she had yet to do so with Rab and his brother and sister-in-law, for which she was incredibly grateful. She was terrified of seeing her former torturer again.

Rab took her around the dark grounds, past delicate colorful lights that illuminated the paths and the features of the garden. The warm scent of blooming roses filled her lungs as they passed the magical plants. As they went along, Rab pointed out several varieties his grandmother, a famous magical botanist, had bred herself. "This one," he pointed to a bunch of peach-colored blooms, "Will only flower at night. It's a cross with a variety my gran picked up in India during her travels." Hermione listened and stopped to smell them, smiling at Rab and feeling much more at ease.

The April nights were still chilly, but tonight was much milder than most. Rab bent down to take a long deep breath from a blue rose that clung to a stone wall, sighing in content as he pulled away, a smile on his face. "This one is probably one of my favorites. Indigo Dreamweaver. My gran always liked to name them something fairytale-like. Here," He cut one of the roses with a severing charm and handed it to her.

Taking it carefully, Hermione inhaled the intoxicating aroma. The perfumed scent hit her hard and she staggered, putting her other hand to her head as Rab steadied her. "Careful now. I forgot to mention it has a slight side effect of making one feel a bit love-drunk." She swayed in his arms and he pulled her closer as she let out several girlish giggles. Rab grinned down at her and kissed her, parting her lips with his tongue. A set of giggles burst from her again and she felt her legs tingle and go a bit weak beneath her. She sagged and Rab caught her, placing a hand at her lower back before sliding it over the curve of her ass. More giggling, but this time his mouth was on hers, kissing her passionately as he pressed her back against the stone wall.

The scent of the flowers drifted up to her and she felt herself growing more relaxed, giggling along with him as his hands roamed over her body. He slid her dress up, parting her legs with his knee as his hand cupped her breast and sucked on her neck. His hand trailed up her thigh, curling down around to squeeze her ass. He rubbed against her, angling himself to press his own pulsing heat against her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he raised her hand up over her head.

Hermione sucked in a hasty breath, inhaling more of the floral scent, feeling drunker with each breath. "Rab," she murmured.

"Yes, ma cherie?" he purred in her ear.

But before she could say anything he ground against her and a sharp intake of breath made her swallow her words. She felt dizzy. The scent all around her was so strong she could barely think straight. "Rab, we should stop," she managed, but Rab rubbed against her again.

"Why? Don't you like my kisses?" he teased, giggling and swooping down to kiss her. His tongue circled around in her mouth, pulling her deeper.

"Really, Rab, I can't think straight."

"Then don't think. Just feel." He slid a hand down over her knickers and she grabbed his wrist, pulling it back up and holding it tightly in her hand.

"Please, Rab. I'm not ready."

His face darkened and she felt him stiffen against her. Slowly, he set her down and let her dress fall. "But you were ready for Evan?"

"Rab…"

"Have you slept with Regulus too?"

Her silence was confirmation enough for him.

"Why not _me_? Why won't you give yourself to me? Let me show you how strong my love for you is." He tried to kiss her again and she flinched, making him freeze.

"I don't want to do it like this, Rab." She swayed a bit, her legs too weak to support her after inhaling the flower's scent for several minutes.

"Then how do you want to do it? I will do…" he paused to kiss her. "...Whatever you want me to do to you. Wherever you want me to do it." His hands gripped her waist, but he stepped back a few paces away from the wall, beginning to feel lightheaded himself. He kissed her again as she struggled to think. A few deep breaths later and she regained her focus and felt clear-headed once more.

"Rab... are you sure _you're_ ready for this? I know it's been difficult for you, after what happened to Abby."

He froze, but only for a moment before he slid his hands around to cup her ass again. "The only woman I want is you, Hermione. I want to be with you. I want to be inside of you." A thrill she had not been expecting surged through her at his words. "Let me show you. Just tell me where you want me to take you." He sucked on the side of her neck, his breath hot against her skin. "In the living room?" He switched and sucked on the other side of her neck. "In the bath?" He sucked on the upper curve of her breast. "On the balcony, perhaps?" He sucked on the other one, marking her. "In my bed?" He slid his tongue up from between her breasts to her neck again. "Or perhaps a little play in the dungeon?" he smirked, biting on her neck with his teeth: not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to cause her to yip in pain.

"Bed," she heard herself say.

He grabbed her and pulled out his wand and in an instant she found herself being lowered roughly onto a large feather bed. Rab didn't even bother peeling off the sheets. With practiced skill he unzipped her dress and slid it up over her head. He paused for a moment, his eyes glued to the purple scar running down her chest. "Who did that?" he asked, his voice dark and menacing.

"No one. It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago. Please, Rab…" She gulped back her fear as he tore his eyes away from it and the hungry expression returned. Desperate to regain his focus, Hermione grabbed his tie and pulled him down for a kiss. He began to unbutton his shirt, but Hermione sat up on her knees and pushed his hands away, doing it herself. Caressing her sides in his large hands he snaked around to her back and pulled off the black satin bra. His hands pawed at her chest, squeezing and cupping and massaging her breasts as her fingers slipped up his chest and hooked under the shirt to pull it down his arms. He flung it away in anticipation, returning to kiss her passionately. A low growl escaped his chest as she raked her nails down his torso.

Unwilling to back down from a challenge, he captured her breasts once again and rolled his thumbs over her perky pink nipples. She whimpered, but felt a rising tingle in her core as he broke the kiss and replaced his thumb with his tongue, sucking at her to draw forth another whimper. His hand slid over her knickers, rubbing slow, tantalizing circles. Her fingers wound in his hair, and she arched into him, begging for more as she whispered his name in soft cries. It was not long before his pace quickened and she felt her wave of pleasure rise and crest. As the last of her muscles relaxed he slid his fingers over her one last time, sending a ripple through her.

He slipped his fingers down underneath her knickers, and when he drew them out again they glistened in the dim light as he put the middle one in his mouth. "Mmm...I like the way you taste." Then he held out his hand and extended his pointer finger to her. "Taste." She took his finger into her mouth, sucking it lightly as she swabbed her tongue over it. Rab bit his lip watching her and he let out a primal growl as he descended upon her once again, kissing her hungrily.

Hermione tangled her fingers in his hair and raked her nails across his back as he bit her shoulder and caressed her nipples between his fingers.

"Tell me you want me." His hot breath tickled her neck and she arched.

"Rab…" She let out a moan as his fingers slid back down and began circling again and a second wave hit her, stronger than the first and her whole body shook as she cried out. Panting, she felt him slip his fingers under her knickers once again.

"Your body wants me. Now tell me you want me."

"Rab," she breathed, trying to look and see where her dress had gone. She needed her wand. "Rab, the spell. Before-"

But he silenced her with a kiss. Drawing his wand he waved it, performing the contraceptive spell. "There. Now tell-"

"I want you!" she burst out, pushing him back up and kissing him fiercely as she undid his belt. He was still wearing the tie, which she used to pull him closer to her as she unzipped his pants.

A stunned Rab groaned as her hand slid into his pants and wrapped around his cock. He vanished the rest of their clothing with his wand and pushed Hermione back down on the bed. Raising one of her legs over his shoulder he leaned in and kissed the inside of her knee. With his cock in his hand he began to trace the outside of her wet entrance, teasing her as he slid it over the sensitive inner folds. "Are you ready?" he breathed into her ear.

"Yes."

He slid himself into her and Hermione arched as the angle hit just the right spots. He brought her over the edge again and when he did he paused and dismounted before pulling her to the edge of the bed and wrapping her legs around him. He slid into her again and began thrusting, holding her hips at first and then leaning over her to fist one of his hands in her hair. He pulled roughly and she winced a little. Thankfully he noticed and eased off, sliding his hand down to squeeze her breast instead.

Another wave began to build and when it hit her and she cried out Rab pumped harder and faster and joined her with a growling grunt soon after.

He lay panting over her for a few moments, staring into her face before lowering his lips down to kiss her. It was long and slow, their sweaty bodies tangled together. He kissed her forehead and rolled off next to her, and she was still swimming in her lightheaded bliss when from the corner of her eye she saw him watching her, a satisfied, if not arrogant smile on his face. "And that, ma cherie, is how I know you will pick me." And he kissed the back of her hand with a devilish gaze that told her that the night was far from over.

* * *

By the time he fell asleep Hermione was exhausted. Rab began to snore lightly as she extricated herself from his arms, slowly, carefully, so as not to wake him. She rose from the bed, moving as quietly as she could as she glanced around in the dark for her clothes. Her foot connected with Rab's shirt and she felt around the ground until she found the spot where he had vanished her clothing to, lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.

She pulled on her dress as Rab let out a particularly loud snore and she turned to make sure he had not yet awoken. The moonlight spilled in through the high windows onto his muscular, athletic physique sprawled across the bed.

Hermione caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she paused midway with her zipper. Small red marks coated her neck and chest. He had marked her so that the others would know when they saw.

Disgust, guilt and shame welled up inside her. She hadn't wanted it to go this far. And yet, she had thrown herself at Rab, begging him to touch her. Would Regulus call her a whore now? Would Evan? Was she just some Death Eater whore like Sirius had said? Was it wrong of her to feel this attraction to Rab and Evan? To care about them? She knew she loved Regulus and considered that her true relationship, but she couldn't deny her feelings for Rab and Evan too. She cared about them, deeply.

Biting her lip, she shook the thoughts from her head and picked up her bag off the ground. With the pocket watch in hand she illuminated her wand once she was outside the bedroom and peered down at the minute hand, which pointed behind her. Cautiously, she began to walk down the hall, peering into empty bedrooms as she passed. Torches set along the wall illuminated with a hazy orange light, sparking to life as she passed before dimming once again.

Hermione traveled down a spiral staircase, entering a hallway that led to a large dining room with tall, high-backed chairs. It smelled like old fires and stale drink. The minute hand was twitching ever so slightly in the room and Hermione's heart hammered against her ribcage. Was it here? She cast several spells, but detected nothing more than a lingering presence that sent a shiver down her spine. Voldemort had been in this room.

Snapping the pocket watch shut, she backed out as quickly as she could and hurried down the hall, trying to put as much distance between her and the room as she could.

Her feet carried her down another flight of spiral stairs, down into the belly of the large castle. There were no windows on the walls here. She ran her hand over smooth stone as she descended deeper. She opened the pocket watch again and it dipped to the left, pointing her down the stairs. At the end of it a tall, black, heavy wooden door blocked her path. A heavy iron latch barred it to the wall. Hermione shivered at the sight of it. The minute hand on the pocket watch pointed ahead, through the door. Then, as a stone dropped into her stomach the hand started to spin, slowly. She twisted and turned, trying to figure out what it meant. Was the horcrux beneath her feet in the room beyond the door? Swallowing her nerves, she extended a shaking hand to the door, touching the iron handle. The spinning minute hand began to slow until is was pointing not at the door, but directly behind her.

"What are you doing down here?" came a voice in her ear.

Hermione screamed, spinning around to point her wand in the face of the person who had snuck up on her.

Rab blinked several times, shielding his eyes from the light of her wand. "Ow," he said, as she lowered her wand. The bedsheet was wrapped around his waist. "Hermione, it's the middle of the night," he said, rubbing a hand over his face. "What are you doing down here?"

Panicking, she said the first thing that came to mind. "I was looking for the bathroom," she lied, badly.

Rab raised an eyebrow. "There's a bathroom off the bedroom. And you passed like three more on your way down here."

"Well, yes, I found the bathroom, but then… But then I wanted something to eat so I went looking for the kitchen."

Again Rab raised a skeptical eyebrow. "The kitchen is off the dining room. You passed that too."

Out of ideas, Hermione stammered, open-mouthed, trying to think of a good reason to explain why she was down here.

Then a look of realization came over Rab's tired face and he grinned, amused. Running his tongue over his lips he relaxed. "You wanted to know if I was joking or not, didn't you?" He folded his arms across his chest, smirking.

Hermione stared at him, uncomprehendingly.

"I wasn't joking," he shrugged, leaning against the wall and nodding at the door. "The manor really does have a dungeon. I wasn't joking about that part."

With a sinking realization, Hermione realized what he meant, her cheeks turning bright red.

"I can show you, if you like."

Panicked thoughts ran through her head and she opened and closed her mouth several times, but no words came to her.

Rab smiled crookedly, stepping closer to her. "You're so cute when you're embarrassed. But there's nothing wrong with enjoying a little kink. Would you like to see?" he asked, putting his hands on her waist and pulling her close.

Hermione bit her lip, trying to think of a polite refusal when a thought occurred to her. The horcrux could be there. It could be just beyond that door. The pocket watch had pointed through the door. She had to know. She had to be sure. "Show me," she breathed.

He grinned at her and put his hand on the iron handle, opening the heavy door with a loud creak. Rab waved his wand and the torches around the room burst into life.

It was larger than she had expected, with low ceilings and a damp chill in the air. Like the secret room in Malfoy Manor, this cavernous space also held items that radiated dark power. A large, demonic statue rose above an altar at the far end of the hall. Iron manacles hung from points on the walls. Hermione recognized several medieval torture devices, including a rack with iron fittings. Three small iron cages lined the eastern wall and another round cage hung from the ceiling. A number of rusty metal tools lay on display in the corner. Underneath the dank smell of the air, Hermione detected a faint scent of blood and sweat.

Rab led her along until they reached the altar with the large statue of a demon looming over the stone table. "This is one of the pagan demons my ancestors used to worship centuries ago. This altar was created by a famous sculptor at the time. _The Incubus Descending_ is what its called."

"I've never heard of it," Hermione said faintly, inching away from the terrifying gaze of the statue, which seemed to watch her no matter where she stood.

"You wouldn't. Worship of this and other pagan rituals was outlawed centuries ago and I suspect most of the lore has faded into history by now. But there was once a time when this was used in dark rituals."

"Has it been used recently?" she asked nervously, glancing at the stone for bloodstains.

Rab shook his head. "No, not for ages. It was a bit of a cult between pureblood families. Although the Rosier family was more devout than the Lestrange side. I know for a fact that they still have an altar similar to this one hidden away somewhere. Still, I suppose it gives a certain ambiance. This room was where the Dark Lord marked his first followers, including my father. Since then it hasn't really seen much use. Back in previous centuries, it was believed that a witch who conceived on the altar would bear powerful sons. And to be fair, there were several generations of sons from the prominent families. You still see it in some families today, like the Weasleys, the Rowles, the Goyles, and the Ollivanders. Sons of sons of sons. What do you say, want to give it a try?" He bent over her kissing her neck and running his hands down her sides.

"Not really, no. I've told you I'm not eager to have children just yet," she said in a nervous voice, her eyes locked on the statue's obsidian eyes.

Rab waved his wand and performed the contraceptive spell. "Relax, it's only a piece of stone." He moved past her and sat on the edge of the stone table. "See? Nothing more than an ornate table now." He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. Cupping her face, he kissed her.

Hesitant, Hermione pushed against his shoulders and stood back up.

"You're not afraid, are you?" he teased, pulling the sheet open to reveal his arousal. He smiled confidently at her, displayed as he was in the nude on the altar like an offering.

Hermione was incredibly scared at that moment, but she had to check and be sure the horcrux wasn't here. "Lie down," she told him, gently pressing him back on the altar. "Close your eyes," she told him and he grinned mischievously, closing them.

Once she was sure his eyes were closed, she pulled the pocket watch out and checked. It spun a little from side to side with the residual magic, but for the most part it pointed directly at Rab.

Hermione bit back her disappointment as she stowed the pocket watch in her pocket and stepped towards the altar. Hitching up her skirt she straddled Rab who ran his hands up her legs. The stone was freezing beneath her knees. Dipping her head, she kissed him and grabbed him tightly.

He groaned as they landed back in the bed. "This is more comfortable," she whispered in his ear.

With a growl, he flipped her over so that she was below him. "You drive me wild, ma cherie."


	31. Chapter 31: A New Perspective

**Chapter 31: A New Perspective**

Regulus thought Evan's gloating had been bad. At least Evan had been a gentleman about it. Rab, on the other hand, was boasting loudly before the other Death Eaters about how he hadn't slept a wink the whole night before because his "cherie" had such a wild, insatiable appetite. Dolohov smirked and Karkaroff laughed.

"Let's just say I can't wait for our next little rendezvous. I've got a certain present in mind I suspect she'll like quite a lot. I have a feeling she's a little kinky," Rab said with a grin as he raised his scotch and Karkaroff sniggered.

Blood boiling, Regulus clenched his hand around his wand, grinding his teeth.

"Ignore him," Severus hissed under his breath.

From across the room Rab caught Regulus's expression and smirked, turning to Dolohov but keeping Regulus in his sight out of the corner of his eye. "I've never had a woman so eager to see the dungeon before. She was a little nervous this time, but I sense I'll hear her crying out my name on that altar before long."

Severus had to restrain Regulus as he surged forward, ready to fight. Evan took the opportunity to send a silencing spell at Rab, who seethed and nearly started a duel with him when the Dark Lord entered the room.

After months of careful planning, Amycus Carrow had managed to put the editor of the _Daily Prophet_ under the imperius curse and the media's tone was shifting quite favorably to the Dark Lord's side.

Rookwood reported that Order members were staked out by the Department of Mysteries each night. No further attempts to steal the prophecy had taken place, although Voldemort had sent Severus and Karkaroff searching for the Potters, who had vanished and were supposedly in hiding under Dumbeldore's protection. Regulus hoped they stayed safe. And he hoped that Sirius did as well.

* * *

"What are you thinking?" Hermione asked from beside Regulus.

The two of them were walking along the roads of Little Hangleton under the invisibility cloak. Unfortunately, Little Hangleton no longer resembled the town on the maps Hermione had borrowed from the library, and the Riddle Manor was at the crux of a number of streets at the top of a hill. They had been combing the streets under the invisibility cloak for a few nights sporadically, but never with much luck. The pocket watch either pointed back to the Riddle Manor or to Regulus's arm.

Regulus had been unusually quiet all night, despite the fact that the streets were abandoned at this hour.

"Regulus?" Hermione prodded when he did not respond.

He blinked, bringing his attention back to the moment. In truth, he had been thinking about what kind of rodent he would most like to turn Rab into if he didn't quit making his boastful remarks every time he got the chance. "Nothing," he said. "Only that this one seems to be a dead end too. The pocket watch hasn't pointed at anything except my arm for a half an hour now. I don't think it's down this way at all. Let's head back." He turned around, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"You're upset with me."

"No I'm not."

"Yes, you are. Why else won't you look at me?"

Swallowing the lump in his throat he turned to look at her. It was true, he found it difficult to look at her after hearing Rab talk about their time together. Her warm brown eyes met his and she stepped closer to him, bringing with her that sweet lavender scent he loved so much.

"Evan told me Rab was oversharing the other night. I had a few harsh words with Rab. I don't think he'll do it again." She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "I'm sorr-"

"You don't have to apologize. I've already told you, I get it. You're a free woman. I'm just... irritated with Rab. I hated hearing him talk about you like that."

"How do you think _I_ feel? I'm the one he was talking about."

Grimacing, he ran a hand through his hair. He had been so wound up in his own feelings about it that he hadn't considered what she must be going through. Stowing the watch for a moment, he pulled her into a comforting hug. Having her there in his arms was a relief and he felt his negative emotions and thoughts vanish as he held her and she buried her head in his chest. "Rab's an ass. Just say the word and I'll turn him into a goat." He felt her laugh against his chest and shake her head.

"You don't need to do that."

"A donkey? It would be more fitting."

"Oh, I assure you, I could turn him into whatever I wanted the next time I catch him being a loathsome toad."

"Loathsome toad? Hm, I suppose it would be easier to chuck him against a wall…"

Groaning, she buried her face in her hands and he pulled them away.

"Look, I'm sorry for how I was acting. I really didn't mean to take it out on you."

"You know it's only you, right? The only one I love is you."

He dipped his head to look into her warm brown eyes and he could tell that she meant it. A small wave of relief washed through him at her words, although he still felt a pang of jealousy in the pit of his stomach every time he thought about Rab and Evan with her. Still, she didn't deserve to be treated cruelly for what he felt. He kissed her forehead, looking up at the sky. "I think it might start raining again. We should call it a night."

Glancing up at the sky Hermione was struck by an idea and she let out a groan of misery.

"What's wrong?"

"I've just had a thought, and while it's a good idea, I'm really going to hate it."

He raised an eyebrow. "What's the idea?"

She pointed up at the sky. "I think we need to look for this place from a different perspective."

Regulus grinned and her heart dropped into her stomach as she glanced up at the sky again. It was then that Regulus saw the faded red mark just below her ear, no doubt leftover from Rab. It felt like a punch to the gut, reigniting his jealousy.

Storm clouds gathered and the rain began to fall on their heads, soaking them within minutes.

"Oh, it's really pouring. Let's call it a night," Hermione said forlornly, pulling off the cloak and stuffing it in her bag. She kissed his cheek and turned to leave, but stopped when he grabbed her hand.

She turned back, a retort on her tongue when he pulled her in for a kiss. This wasn't like the farewell kisses he usually gave her, this one was hard and determined and meaningful as he pressed his emotions into that kiss. His fingers wound in her hair and she sighed, relaxing into him as the raindrops pelted down, closing in the world around them.

Taking her face in his hands, he slowed the kiss and she let out a sweet, heavenly sigh. "Stay with me tonight," he whispered, breaking the kiss and leaving her panting for breath.

A thrill of nervousness and excitement coursed through her core at his words and she nodded.

He pulled her close until her body was pressed against him. A moment later they were outside of Kraken Cove Cottage in the rain, kissing fiercely. He picked her up and she wound her legs around him, clutching him tightly and responding to his kisses with equal enthusiasm as he kicked the door open.

Pressing her up against the wall, he ran a hand over her damp skirt, up her thigh, and over the plane of her stomach up to her breast. Hermione's head rolled to the side and she sighed in delight as he buried his face in her neck, kissing and sucking at the delicate skin there. Another moan came from her and she tugged on his hair.

Hitching her up higher, he trailed kisses down from her neck to her scar, and down further, sucking the top curve of her breast as he tugged her blouse aside. She moaned and arched her back, breathing heavily. He switched to the other one, kissing and sucking as she moaned again.

"Regulus…" she murmured, sending a thrill through him at the sound of his name on her lips. Her fingers slid to his tie, fumbling with the knot at his throat. Setting her down carefully, he helped tug off the tie, tossing it aside and shrugging off his jacket after that.

Hermione's eager fingers began to work the buttons on his shirt as she kissed him, and he did the same. Her navy blue blouse fell away and soon the white lace bra followed. A shiver ran through her, soaked to the bone as she was, and the moment his shirt was gone she pressed herself against him, seeking his warmth.

Regulus kissed her fiercely, pouring his passion and his jealousy into the kiss, letting it fuel his desire as his hands roamed over her smooth, wet skin. He wanted her. He relished in the heat of her skin and the scent of her hair and the taste of her skin beneath his kisses.

Her nails gently raked down his torso, sending a tremor through his core at the tickling sensation. Tugging his shirt down roughly, she pushed him back until he landed on the sofa. She stood over him, grinning her coy, minxy grin down at him as her skirt fell away and so did every other article of clothing. Straddling him, she ran her fingers through his damp hair before raking his chest with her nails once more until she reached his pants and began to tug at his belt.

He groaned into her mouth when the belt clattered to the floor and her hand passed over his throbbing erection. Digging his nails into the cushions and biting his lip he threw his head back. He gave an involuntary buck as she pressed harder against him, moving her hand, stroking him through the wet fabric. He met her warm, sultry, chestnut eyes and she grinned devilishly at him and his heart skipped a beat. Slowly, tantalizingly, she unbuttoned his pants and pulled down his zipper. Soon his pants were gone and she was straddling him again, grinding as she kissed him and sucked on his earlobe. It was all so good, driving him mad with longing as she stroked and teased him through his boxers.

"Do you want me?" she asked in a whisper, her breath on his neck as she sucked and nipped at his skin.

"Yes," he whispered, suppressing the urge to buck as she rubbed over the tip of his cock.

"Good," she teased with a smile. "Because I want you."

His hands gripped her ass as she rocked over him, backward and forward, drawing forth another groan. He captured one of her nipples in his mouth and her gasp of surprise melted into a lustful whimper as the sensation stirred something inside her like a live wire. Arching into him, she tugged at his silky black locks, relishing in the feeling as his tongue moved back and forth over the sensitive tip. Her body yielded to his every touch, craving more contact.

His hands began to massage her ass as she ground against him, tossing her head back as she moaned his name. "Regulus, please…"

At her words, he scooped her up once more and she giggled in surprise. He pushed open the door to the master bedroom and lay her carefully down on the bed beneath him. Bending down over her to return his attention to her chest, he paused as Hermione gently pushed him back up.

"Take them off," she said breathlessly, dipping her hand into the waistband of his boxers.

Catching her hand in his, he stopped her and slowly lowered her until her back was touching the bedspread. "Not yet," he teased. His lips closed around her other nipple and she arched into him as his hand slowly slid between her thighs. She was already wet as he dipped into the lubrication, spreading it around slowly. A whimper escaped her throat as his fingers slid over her sensitive spots as he kissed her stomach. She raised her hips, tilting for more contact. But he teased her still, knowing how much she craved release. His cock ached to be inside her as he watched her arch and bite her lip to keep from crying out.

"Regulus," she whimpered. "Regulus, please…" she begged, fisting her fingers in the blankets. His cool calm and private smile never looked more Slytherin as he teased her, building the sensation as she begged for him to take her. She came crashing down on her wave of pleasure as her orgasm rocked through her body and she cried out, echoing in the night.

But he didn't let up. Licking his fingers seductively, he moved back to kiss her, sucking her neck and breasts as she recovered.

Once the sensitivity wore off he dipped his fingers back down and she shivered, arching, adjusting herself beneath him to get more contact.

"Regulus please, I need you!" she moaned.

His cock pulsed in response to her words, the deep-seated ache from watching her come filling him with longing. He hovered over her, paused at her entrance.

"Please, Regulus..."

Without pause this time, he obeyed, giving in to his lust as he drove into her, filling her slowly, completely. Then he started to move. His hand reached up, interlinking his fingers with hers as he pinned her arm, burying his face in her neck and the sweet scent of her hair.

Her body tensed, her nails digging into his back, and a minute later she was gasping again as another orgasm hit her, more powerful than the first.

A third followed and Regulus knew he would not last through another one. Concentrating on his timing he waited until she whispered in his ear.

"Regulus, please, I want you to…" Her words faded on her tongue as her fourth orgasm crested and Regulus gave his last thrust, joining her in pleasurable bliss.

As Hermione lay in his arms under the warm dry sheets he brushed her curls with his fingertips, a content smile on his face.

"You gave me quite a few love bites," she commented.

"I seem to recall you were the one who bit me," he teased, pointing to the mark on his shoulder from where she had bit him to dampen her cries at the end.

But Hermione didn't smile at his joke. She turned to him, serious as she stroked his cheek with a gentle finger. "You know I meant it when I told you earlier that you are the only one I love, right? I love you, Regulus. It's not a competition at all. It's only you."

He pulled her in for a kiss.

"So there's no need for you to be jealous of Rab or Evan," she said, laying her hand on his chest.

"I'm not jealous of them," he lied.

Hermione made a face. He had, after all, previously admitted to being wildly jealous.

It hurt him to see her looking at him like that. "Well, maybe a little," he admitted, plucking at the blanket to remove invisible lint.

She brushed aside his hair. "I promise you, there is no reason to be jealous. I love you. What we have between us doesn't even compare to anything I've felt for anyone now or before. I love you. I want you. Only you."

He bent his head and kissed her deeply, and she poured her emotions into the kiss.

"I love you, and only you, Regulus Black. I am yours." Taking his hand, she pushed herself up on top of him and placed his hand over her heart, smiling down at him. She rocked her hips and his cock began to harden once more. "Let me prove it to you," she whispered, sinking down onto him.

"You don't have to prove-"

"I know I don't have to. But I want to," she spoke quietly, bringing his hands up to her chest as she braced herself and began to move up and down, riding him slowly at first, then faster as she adjusted to his girth and found her rhythm. He couldn't take his eyes off her as she rode him, bathed in moonlight now that the rain had stopped.

When they were both thoroughly spent and pleasantly satisfied, they lay next to one another, wrapped together under the blanket, fingers interlocked and smiles on their faces.

"Does this mean I'm yours now?" he asked with a private grin as he brushed aside her hair and kissed her shoulder.

"Yes," she replied with a smirk, kissing one of his knuckles.

"And what will you do with me now that you have me?" he asked in a seductive whisper, kissing her cheek and tickling her sides so that she squirmed and laughed.

"I think I'll keep you," she said with a smile, kissing him on the cheek.

That night Regulus fell asleep with a contented smile on his face and his witch in his arms.

* * *

They waited a full week for the weather to get better, as Hermione had quite plainly refused to go up when it was windy, much less stormy. Not that Regulus was planning on taking her up on a broom into conditions where lightning was a strong possibility. So they had waited until it was overcast, but not raining.

Since seeing was of vital importance, they had decided to fly over the village under a disillusionment charm. The invisibility cloak might fly off and Hermione was too nervous they would be seen if the wind made it whip around their feet. Plus, she didn't want anything to impede Regulus's ability to fly accurately and safely. Hermione held onto him tightly as they mounted the now invisible broom. Harry's omnioculars hung around her neck and she held the pocket watch tightly in the other.

"Regulus...surely we don't _both _need to go up to scope it out."

"Two sets of eyes are better than one, Hermione. You know that. And one of us has to pay attention to avoid running into birds."

Hermione grumbled something incoherent, tightening her grip around his waist.

"Hermione, my love, I still need to breathe in order to fly," he reminded her as they hovered a few feet off the ground.

"Sorry," she apologized, loosening her grip as much as she dared.

"I'm not going to let you fall, you know."

"I know you won't let me. I'm more worried you'll get hit by a random crow and crash without having any say in the matter."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

She buried her head between his shoulders.

"Hermione, you're supposed to be looking."

"I can't. It's too scary. I can't even see the broom."

"Well, you have to look, that's the whole point of being up here." He thought for a moment. "Why don't we talk about something to take your mind off of it?"

"Like what?"

"If you had to pick Rab or Evan, who would you choose?"

Hermione groaned and he laughed. "I'd choose neither."

"No, come on, if you had to pick one, wand to your throat, which one would you pick?"

"Evan."

She said it so quickly he blinked in surprise. "Really? Why Evan?"

"He's nicer. Less arrogant. We have more interesting conversations. And he's making an effort to get to know me and my interests. More so than Rab. He just likes to show off." She muttered something in an annoyed undertone that ended with "...boastful goat."

Regulus chuckled.

"Since we're asking questions that make each other uncomfortable, have you seen Sirius recently? He was waiting for me outside the firm yesterday and followed me until I confronted him."

Regulus made a jerky motion on the broom in surprise and Hermione let out a terrified squeal, clutching onto him tighter. "Did he say anything to you? Did he hurt you?" Regulus asked hurriedly, concerned.

"No, he just wanted to apologize. I told him I wasn't the one he needed to apologize to. So I was wondering if he's tried talking to you."

Regulus chewed his cheek for a moment, then sighed. "Yeah, he did. Not long after that night at the Shrieking Shack. I wasn't too thrilled to see him though."

"You should give him a chance. It's not easy for him. He's a stubborn git, just like you."

"Ouch."

"Oh, please. You know you're just as bad as he is. That's why the two of you can't be left alone in a room together without trying to rip each other's throats out."

"Nonsense. I walked right by him after he confronted me. And his throat was still intact."

"How much willpower did that take?"

"About every bit I have. I may have accidentally set the neighbors shrubs on fire when I walked by them, though."

Hermione groaned and rested her forehead on his back. "Regulus, won't you try? Please? For me?"

"Oh, that's not fair. You know I'd do anything for you."

She hugged him from behind. "Thank you."

He grumbled, but said nothing, swooping a bit lower as they circled near the church.

"Can I ask you something more personal?"

"Of course."

She hesitated. "Do… Do you want children?" The question hung in the air around them for a little while. Hermione was afraid she had overstepped when he sighed and spoke.

"I'm supposed to. It's my duty to carry on my family name after all. But I don't know…" he trailed off, growing quiet. "I don't know if I would be a good father."

She understood his hesitation and gave him a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "I think you would be a good father."

He scoffed.

"No, really. Don't you remember at the museum? Those kids were hanging on your every word when you were telling me about the constellations. Not to mention how sweet you are. I think you would be a good father."

"You're not trying to tell me something, right?"

"Of course not! I don't want you to crash this broom!"

He laughed and turned the broom west. "What about you? Do you want children?"

"Some day. Not in the near future."

"Do you want to have _my_ children?" he teased, and Hermione was glad he couldn't see her blush.

"I haven't ruled it out. Especially if they have your hair." She brushed it with her hand and kissed his neck. "Although I do enjoy practicing with you in the meantime."

He groaned as she trailed delicate kisses along the back of his neck. "You're making it very uncomfortable to ride a broom, you know."

"All part of my secret plan to get you to land."

"Don't tempt me. There's a bunch of nice private woodsy spots down there."

"Oh, brilliant! Yes, go that way," she pointed towards the dense overgrowth of tall trees and thick underbrush.

"Really? I mean, it's still April and it's been raining all week. Everything's likely still damp, but I suppose we could-"

"Not that! The shack. Maybe we can't see it because it's under those trees. Take us lower so we can check it out."

"Right," he agreed, his neck turning red.

They skirted over the trees and Hermione used the omnioculars to peer down. She checked the pocket watch periodically for the slightest waver and then pointed excitedly. "There!"

He dipped lower, carefully avoiding the overgrown tree branches and setting them down on a long abandoned road, riddled with encroaching brambles and waist-high weeds. It had clearly not been used in a long time, given the build up of leaves and grass covering up the old wagon tracks.

Hermione stowed the broom in her bag and once they were certain the coast was clear they removed their own disillusionment charms.

"It's fine. No one's been here in ages," Regulus reassured her, checking the surrounding area with a few spells, even though the tall grass was proof enough of that.

Checking the pocket watch, they followed where it was pointing until they came to a mass of brambles blocking the overgrown trail before them.

Stepping in front of her, Regulus illuminated his wand like a lightsaber and began slashing at the brambles with a severing spell.

Despite her nerves, Hermione giggled. "Are you having fun?"

"Definitely," he said, turning his head back to give her a small smile. "I was hoping I'd get the chance to do this."

He hacked and slashed with ease, using slicing charms to slowly clear a path, revealing a dilapidated, derelict wooden structure recessed from the road. A faded, papery snake skin was nailed to the door. Vines and brambles grew up over the house, like the earth was trying to tear down and consume the miserable structure.

"Do you think it's safe to enter?" Hermione asked nervously.

"Not in the slightest," Regulus muttered in a low voice, as if speaking any louder might knock it over.

Pulling out her wand, the two of them began checking for traps, curses, and other nasty spells that must be guarding the place. After several minutes Hermione and Regulus lowered their wands and turned to each other, bemused expressions on their faces. "There's nothing. Just a basic muggle repelling charm, and I think that's leftover from the Gaunts."

"It's not even unplottable," Regulus said. "Which means it was merely forgotten or overlooked this whole time."

The wind picked up, causing the structure to creak and groan as if one strong gust might knock it down.

"Do you think we have the wrong house?" Regulus asked after a minute.

"I think it's right. Look at the door with the snakeskin. And the pocket watch is pointing in that direction."

"But where's the trap?"

Their eyes glanced around as if saying it might activate some secret mechanism.

"Maybe it's inside?" Hermione said under her breath as they approached the front door. "Should we just... try opening it?"

"I suppose." He reached for the handle. The door creaked open on stiff hinges. "It's not even locked!" he said, slightly appalled. Regulus raised his wand over his head, casting a spell to make several shining balls of light appear. They bobbed ahead of them in the dank dark of the cabin.

"Maybe he didn't think anyone would ever make the connection, tracing his lineage to the Gaunts. He didn't know about it until he was a teenager."

"But no protection?"

She shrugged, just as worried and confused by this development as he was. "Maybe he was trying to make it harder to locate using magic, since it always leaves a trace?"

"Explains why it took so long to find."

Still, they both kept their wands raised and at the ready as they entered the ramshackle building. Hermione stifled a cough as their footsteps kicked up dust from the thick layers coating the floor. The glowing balls grew brighter and there was movement along the corners of the room as rats scurried out of sight. Both of them leapt back and Hermione covered her mouth to stifle her scream.

"We should have brought Crookshanks," Regulus remarked with a lingering expression of disgust as he looked around all corners of the room to be sure the rest of the critters in the house weren't going to scare them.

"Where do you think the ring is?"

Hermione shrugged, looking down at the pocket watch. It spun around in circles, as if it couldn't quite decide where it wanted to point. "It can't seem to make up its mind," she commented, handing the pocket watch over to Regulus, who tapped it with his wand.

"Best start looking, I suppose," he groaned, glancing around at the horrid shack for hiding places.

He went to the right as Hermione approached the kitchen area, peering at the grime-covered window, wondering if Merope Gaunt had stared out of that same window at Tom Riddle Sr. when he passed by. She turned around and her eyes passed over the countertop and the small, tarnished kettle on the woodburning stove, the stack of dusty jars and plates so covered with mold they were unrecognizable. She hoped it wasn't buried somewhere under one of the many fuzzy, dirty piles littering the countertop. The cabinets surely hid sights just as horrid, but Hermione braced herself and raised her wand, flicking the cabinet doors open with a spell. Preparing herself for more rats as the cupboard doors opened, she peeked one eye after a moment and then the other, illuminating the stacks of dusty plates and bowls covered in droppings. Levitating the stacks so she wouldn't have to touch anything, Hermione peered on her tiptoes to check the upper shelves.

Regulus swore loudly from behind her and the plates shattered as she broke her focus and ran to the sound. He stood in the living room in front of the fireplace, his face paler than usual.

"What is it?" she managed to get out before she reached his side and saw what he was looking at and screamed, nearly jumping out of her skin.

In the armchair facing the fireplace was a dessicated corpse with blackened, burned looking skin and bones. Two glittering gemstones sparkled from within the sunken eye sockets, shining blue in the light from the hovering orbs.

"Who was he?" Regulus asked, but Hermione didn't have an answer. It was clear from the clothing that it had been a man, but beyond that the fabric was so degraded it was hard to tell who he was when he was alive. Neither of them was too keen to get closer to inspect and find out.

"I don't know. Someone that Voldemort wanted out of the way," she murmured in a whisper.

Regulus moved the light of his wand over the dead man, stopping just above his right hand. "Is that the ring?"

It lay loosely on the skeletal fingers of the corpse, gleaming despite the thick layer of dust. "It must be. It has the Peverell coat of arms."

"The Peverells? The Gaunts were an old family."

Hermione listened, but didn't comment or add that Harry had suspected that this was the resurrection stone from the Deathly Hallows.

Reaching into her bag with a trembling hand, she pulled out one of the fangs and handed it to Regulus.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded quickly, pushing it into his palm. "You have steadier hands," she told him. But the truth was she was afraid to get close to the ring. Afraid she might be tempted to use it. Afraid that Harry might have been right.

"Do I just stab through the center?" he asked hesitantly, although they both knew what he was really asking: should he stab it while it was on the dead man's finger?

"Worth trying," she said meekly.

Regulus bent down and raised his hand with the fang above his head, swinging it down rapidly, precisely on target.

The dead hand turned over and caught his wrist as the fang sank between the bones of the forearm. The jeweled eyes flashed scarlet and the mouth opened to release a serpent made of smoke from it's blackened maw.

A flash of red and two cries rang out.

The high back of the armchair fell next to the severed head.

The severed hand hit the wall as Regulus flung it away from himself.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked frantically.

"I think so," he gasped, clutching his hand and twisting his wrist this way and that to examine it.

The smoke serpent had vanished and Hermione banished the severed head with a harsh wave of her wand.

Reluctantly, Regulus approached the severed hand and pointed his wand at it. The bones and skin dissolved into dust, leaving behind the ring.

Hermione took more fangs from the bag and slid the ring onto one carefully with the help of a hovering charm. Once it was secure Regulus held the fang's tip on the center of the carving on the ring. Using a brick he had smashed off of the fireplace, Regulus swung the brick down on top of the fang like a hammer on a spike. The stone split and cracked like a spider's web, crumbling away into shattered pieces.

Hermione scooped them all up carefully into her hand and put them in her pocket.

* * *

Later that night she tossed the shattered remains of the ring into the ocean from the cliffs of Kraken's Cove.

Regulus took her hand, holding it tightly in his before they turned their backs on the ocean and went into the cottage.

Worried, Hermione insisted on inspecting Regulus's hand for damage or signs of curses, but to her great relief it seemed unaffected by any potential damage. There wasn't any sign of blackened flesh or dessicated skin. The relief she felt was palpable, bringing the back of his hand to her lips, then kissing each and every one of his fingertips.

He chuckled. "You're not going to eat them, are you?"

She gave him a coy look and slowly lowered her mouth over his finger, sucking it as her lips moved down past the knuckle, a devilish gleam in her eye.

Caught off guard, he froze as the sight and sensation of what she was doing caused a visceral reaction in him. His lips parted and he sank down onto the couch as she gently pushed him down, climbing on top of his lap and moving to the next finger. At the same time she dipped her hand between them and massaged his hardening length through his pants, drawing forth a moan of desire between his labored breaths.

She pulled his hand down to cup one of her breasts through her dress. His free hand snaked around to her back, pulling her closer so he could kiss her. She let him kiss her hungrily for a minute while she removed his shirt before breaking away and unbuttoning his pants to release his cock from the straining confines of the fabric. Taking him into her mouth, little by little, just as she had with his fingers, she sucked and licked experimentally as Regulus threw back his head, clutching the cushions until he couldn't seem to catch his breath.

Her every move drove him wild. It took all his willpower to remain completely still as he felt his muscles growing tighter and tighter, his breath quickened as she moved her mouth over his cock, swiping at the head with her tongue. His body tensed in anticipation at the mounting sensation begging for release inside him. "Hermione," he gasped. "I can't take much more. I'm almost there."

Her hand replaced her mouth as she watched his chest rise and fall as his breathing increased and then he threw his head back, his eyes squeezed shut as his orgasm crested over the edge into sweet oblivion.

Banishing the mess with a quick wave of her wand Hermione crawled up next to him, lightly trailing her fingers up his chest which glistened with perspiration.

When he had regained his breath he captured her lips in his, rolling over to hover above her.

A giggle escaped from her as they broke apart and he was still panting. "I take it you enjoyed that?" she teased.

"Mmm…" he purred against her neck. "Very much. May I return the favor?"

Hermione nodded and he kissed down her belly, sinking to the floor, sliding her to the edge and angling her. He slowly slid his hands up her legs to hike the skirt of her dress up and hooked one of her legs over his shoulder.

She felt his hot breath against her inner thigh and then his tongue was sliding against the wet part of her knickers. Her body rippled in pleasure. It was not long before she was curling her toes, begging him for more.

Happy to oblige, Regulus kissed the inside of her thigh as he replaced her leg over his shoulder, pulling her knickers away.

The increased sensation from the raw contact of his tongue on her sent a rapid surge through her. Regulus gently raked his nails along her thighs, delighting in the shivers he induced in her. His tongue probed her entrance, licking and tasting her arousal as she arched, throwing her head back. Experimentally, he began moving his lips and tongue in different ways, watching her every reaction as a certain motion would cause her to arch or stroking faster made her breath hitch. He went slowly, adding his fingers in his ministrations.

Hermione let out a whimper as he hit a spot deep inside her at the same time his tongue pressed against her clitoris. "Regulus, please, I need you," she moaned.

But he teased her a little longer, sliding his fingers in and out as his tongue pressed against her clit in delightful circles. Reveling in her pleasure, Regulus watched her expression, stroking himself.

"Please," she begged him, breathless. Positioning himself before her, he toyed with her a few moments longer, circling her entrance as he spread the lubrication around with his cock. He slid inside her, but even as he began to thrust he did not let up as his fingers pressed against her sensitive bud. As the waves of pleasure began to reach their peak she was hit with the strongest wave of pleasure yet, diving deep into new orgasmic depths. She rode out the sensation as Regulus, bolstered by the feeling of her contracting around him, joined her not long after. She squeezed him tighter and the added sensation sent him hurtling over the edge. A primal cry ripped through his core as she threw back her head in ecstasy.

He began to pull away from her, but she gripped him with her legs around his waist, keeping him against her.

"Stay, please," she said, breathlessly.

He lowered himself back over her, hovering.

Grinning, she looped her arms around his back. "It's okay. You can lie on me." At her say so, he relaxed his body, collapsing on top of her, skin to skin. "That's certainly one way to celebrate," she mused, lightly tracing the scars on his back and nibbling on his earlobe.

He chuckled and kissed her.

That night, exhausted from the day's events and the evenings activities, they fell asleep in the same bed, wrapped in each other's arms, feeling as though they really just might pull off the mission. Now they only had one more horcrux to go.

* * *

Regulus felt the dead hands pulling him under, clawing at his clothes as they pulled him under the water. A high cold laugh sounded all around him. "Did you really think you could escape me?" A hand reached for his face and he screamed. Gasping for air, he awoke covered in sweat to Hermione beside him, her hand on his cheek and a concerned frown on her lips. Slowly, he unclenched her wrist from his vice-like grip, sucking in deep lungfuls of air.

"The lake again?" she asked softly.

He nodded. This was not the first time he had woken up beside her after one of his nightmares. The night terrors often caused him to wake in the middle of the night, but she soothed him and they held each other until they felt safe again. He did the same for her when she thrashed in the middle of the night, waking her gently and holding her.

She brushed his hair with her hand and kissed his cheeks as he regained control of his breathing. "It's not real, my love. You're safe here with me." She kissed down to his chest, resting her cheek on his shoulder and blinking sleepily.

"I'm sorry for waking you."

"Don't be silly," she yawned and cozied up against him, pulling the blanket up over them both. She didn't say more. She didn't need to. They both understood why dreams were a curse to them both. Hermione slung her leg over him and kissed his collarbone.

"It feels so real. I feel like I'm right back there. Every time."

She cupped his cheek and propped herself up to look him in the eye. "You're not there, Regulus. It isn't real. It's only a dream. You're not there. You're right here, with me."

A part of him wanted to believe her, but he knew that their battle was far from over. Voldemort was still out there. If he found out... If they were discovered... Regulus was certain they would be killed. Squeezing her hand reassuringly, he reminded himself that he was not alone in this fight. That thought alone brought him some comfort, and yet, he could not bear the thought of anything happening to Hermione. He had never had someone worth protecting like this. Without a shadow of a doubt he knew in his bones he would die for her. The thought of losing her was too horrible to even imagine. He banished it from his mind, shaking his head to clear it.

She kissed him tenderly and after a brief moment he kissed her back, soft and slow until sleep descended once again.


	32. Chapter 32: Secrets and Deceptions

**Chapter 32: Secrets and Deceptions**

Hermione was thrust into a world she was not ready for. She thought sleeping with Evan and Rab each once would be enough to satiate them. Instead, it had the opposite effect. Now they seemed to crave more from her. Dates became more private as Evan and Rab used the time out of the public eye for more intimate romance. As a result, Hermione used the time to search estates and properties they visited for signs of the last horcrux. Still, after her searches yielded no results she knew she needed to obtain the information by getting closer to Rab. Determined to take the reigns herself she planned a surprise.

She brought Rab to a secluded hillside she remembered from her time on the run with Harry after Ron had left. It was covered in yellow blossoms and a great large willow tree rose up, blocking out the moon overhead and sheltering them away from the rest of the world. It was a picturesque spot and she had told him that she had planned a picnic for the two of them.

Balls of light just like the ones Regulus liked to make bobbed above their heads as the light faded into darkness. She told him to stand still and tied a blindfold around his eyes. He leaned against the tree, an amused smile on his face as she opened the picnic basket she had brought and with a wave of her wand, assembled the blanket, several cushions, a bowl of fruit, a loaf of bread and a jar of honey and a bottle of wine with two glasses. Once she was satisfied she rose up on her tiptoes and kissed Rab on the lips, removing the blindfold. With a grand sweeping gesture, Hermione urged him forward, relishing in the delighted smile he wore. "What do you think?" she asked warmly.

"I think you are full of wonderful surprises."

They sat and he pulled her close, feeding her grapes as they sipped the wine. He told her about the Whomping Willow at Hogwarts and Hermione listened, pretending to be interested as he regaled her with his attempts to touch the trunk. She kept pouring him glasses as he talked more about his time at Hogwarts, especially quidditch.

"Regulus told me you were a good beater," she praised, pouring him a third glass of wine.

Rab raised an eyebrow at her suspiciously. "If I didn't know better, I would say you're trying to get me drunk, ma cherie." Winking at her, he took a healthy swig and tore off a piece of bread, popping small chunks into his mouth. "Reggie wasn't bad either. Best seeker we had, actually. Karring was awful; he was the seeker before Reggie."

"Was Evan any good?" she asked curiously.

Rab shrugged. "Evan was a good chaser. He could play extremely well with the others, and he had a knack for dodging bludgers."

"Not that he needed to when you were on the same team," she flattered and he grinned peevishly.

"Of course not. Beaters never get the credit or glory, but a good beater is worth more than a dozen chasers any day."

"Don't let Evan hear you say that," she teased.

He shrugged his shoulder nonchalantly. "I can take Evan. I might not play much anymore, but I've always had a beater's build," he winked at her again, pulling her closer. "As you well know." He nuzzled his nose against hers and nipped at her neck playfully. He tried to pull her in for a kiss, but she put a finger to his lips. Hiking her skirt up around her hips, she straddled him and he grinned like a fool. "Eager for dessert, I see." He slid his hands over her smooth thighs until his fingertips brushed the silk of her dress bunched up around her waist.

"Actually, I was thinking I might get to enjoy you for dessert," she whispered in his ear, draping her arms around his neck. He began to unbutton his shirt, but Hermione moved his hands to her hips and she began to unbutton it instead. "I thought... if you're up for it ...that maybe you might let me use the blindfold on you."

"Oh?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and kissing her.

"So... do I have your permission, Rab?"

"I am yours to do with as you wish, ma cherie."

She let his shirt fall away and put the blindfold on him. "No peeking," she whispered, pulling her dress off over her head and letting it fall on top of him. He flashed his cocky smile as she slid the dress off to the side and told him to lie back. With the honey jar in hand she waved her wand and vanished his clothing and her own before carefully sitting back down next to him. Dipping her fingers into the honey, she touched his naked body, leaving sweet sticky spots all over his skin. He smirked and quivered in pleasure as she sucked and licked his neck, chest, nipples, shoulders, and lips. As she traced circles and made up runes on his chest she whispered, "You are mine. Every. Inch. Is mine."

She hated tricking him, but if she couldn't convince him to leave Voldemort, she wanted to make sure he would be safe. By now she could perform the containment ritual with ease, using the honey to trace the symbols and a wave of her wand to arrange the other parts and pieces. Her lips brushed his cheek, silently asking for forgiveness as she completed the ritual. Waving her wand, she hid the remaining mark, watching it sink invisibly beneath his skin, protecting him without his knowledge.

Picking up where she left off in her seduction, she paused at various points to lick the drops of honey from him. She touched and kissed his dark mark, and he hissed and moaned with pleasure. Then she dipped his fingers into the honey as well and brought them back out for her to suck.

He groaned and rolled his hips. "Ma cherie, you tease-" But that was all he got out before she drizzled the honey jar over his chest and down his stomach. Hovering above him, she took ahold of him and let the tip of him touch her wet entrance. He groaned as she began to slide him back and forth. "Tell me you want me, Rab."

"I want you. Merlin's balls, I want you so bad, ma cherie."

"What would you give to be inside of me, Rab?"

"Anything."

"Anything?"

"Anything," he swore, practically panting as he tried to buck up into her.

She placed his wand in his hand and kissed his jawline.

He knew what he was supposed to do with it and performed the contraceptive spell. Just as he finished she pulled it from his hand and pinned his arms above him as she sank down onto him. She rode Rab and he matched her speed, pumping up into her until he reached his climax. He pulled her hips down on top of him as he let out his final moan of pleasure.

Hermione lay next to him later, after banishing the mess to curl up in Rab's arms. As she watched the hovering balls of light bounce up and down, she felt a calm settle over her. Tracing the Dark Mark with her fingertips, she nestled against Rab under the blanket. "Did it hurt?" she asked, turning his wrist this way and that in the dim light. The eerie way it seemed to move with the shadows made her nervous.

"Yes," he admitted. "It hurt more than any pain I had ever felt in my whole life."

Hermione winced at the thought. Evan, Regulus and Draco had all received the mark as well. "It felt like every inch of my body was exploding, like a thousand cruciatus curses at once. Some don't survive it. Others go mad from the pain."

Hermione remembered that it had been Rabastan and his brother, along with Bellatrix, who had tortured Neville's parents into insanity with the cruciatus curse. The thought made her feel like scum, wrapped in Rab's arms, even though none of that had yet come to pass. She couldn't believe that this was that same man. Privately, she wondered what Rab would be like without the influence of his family.

Rab mistook her shiver of revulsion at the thought of Bellatrix and squeezed her tighter.

"Is that what happened to Bellatrix?" she asked nervously.

"Bellatrix? No, she was insane to begin with. Always had a sadistic streak. My brother told me she laughed through tears of joy when she got her mark. Most faint or cry or scream. But not Bella."

"Did you?"

"Did I weep tears of joy and laugh like a maniac? No. I screamed and collapsed like a downed tree. Rod screamed and cried. He didn't get out of bed for days afterwards, and even then he still shook."

Hermione bit her lip, wondering if she dared ask. "What about Evan?" she asked quietly.

"He cried. I still remember him twitching afterwards. We got ours at the same time. It took him a bit longer to recuperate."

Hermione swallowed fearfully. "And Regulus? Were you there for his?"

Rab seemed reticent to tell her. "I was there. We all thought he was going to piss himself: a sixteen-year-old kid still in school. But he didn't. He grit his teeth and didn't cry. Didn't scream. Didn't pass out. He just looked possessed as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. When it was over he stood up and took his place in line like it was nothing. He hardly even shook."

Hermione studied him for a moment. "Is that... bad?"

"No, in fact, it's quite remarkable. No one else since has done it. Blacks don't crack as easily, I suppose. Or else they're like Bella, and already cracked."

"Regulus isn't like her at all."

Rab shrugged. "I don't know. Blacks have a reputation for cruelty and sadism. I worry about you being around him. You never know when a sleeping dragon is going to snap."

"He's good, Rab, really. He's very good to me."

Rab rolled his eyes. "For now. That's always how it starts. A man plays nice and sweet until he has his hooks in you. Then he chips away little by little until he's buried you in a hole where you're all alone and then he stops playing nice. I should know. It's what my mother experienced with my father."

Hermione shivered. Regulus wasn't like that. He couldn't be. "He's not like that."

"Inbreeding has its consequences."

"Rab…" she warned.

"Fine, fine."

A beat passed and then she asked, "What's it like, serving the Dark Lord?"

Rab settled back against the tree, flexing his left arm, a wistful look on his face. "Terrifying and awe-inspiring at the same time. The first time I met him I was scared out of my pants. He doesn't look like a normal man. He's done magic most wouldn't even dare dream of. There's something about being in his presence, in the thick of it. It's dangerous and enticing all at once. He radiates power and the gifted and bold are drawn to him. He makes us stronger. I've noticed it, since taking the mark. My magic is stronger when I'm in his presence."

"Did you join because of your father?"

Rab shrugged. "I wanted to join. But I don't know if I would have had another choice. My whole family are Death Eaters. I couldn't have very well refused."

"Your father was one of the first to join, wasn't he?"

"He was. My family has been crucial to many of the Dark Lord's successes."

"He must trust you and your family a great deal." She had to be careful now. A wrong word, prying too much, might set him off. She had to play the game without revealing her hand and tipping him off.

Rab looked smug. "He does. We're his most trusted followers. Besides Lucius, perhaps."

Hermione's heart beat faster. If Lucius was gifted a horcrux, it was possible Rab or Rodolphus or their father had been too.

"I'm sure he trusts you more than Lucius. You're bolder and stronger, and much, much more powerful." She kissed him and felt him smile against her lips. "I bet he trusts you and your family with tasks and secrets above all others. Doesn't he?" She wrapped her hand around his cock and began to stroke him. She licked and nibbled at his neck, her breath hot in his ear as she whispered his name.

"He does. Lestranges are powerful allies. We're good at keeping secrets. He knows he can count on us to keep his most precious possessions safe." His fingers trailed in her curls.

"Will you keep me safe?" she breathed, looking up at him with large brown eyes. Would he take her side or his Dark Lord's if it came down to it?

"Of course, ma cherie." He growled into her shoulder.

Hermione's breath hitched in her throat. He must have it. The cup _must_ be in the possession of the Lestrange family.

Rab smirked at her sudden intake of breath, moving his hand over her chest to squeeze her breast. "You seem to have a kink for Death Eaters."

She leaned in and kissed him. "What can I say? I'm attracted to powerful men." She bit his shoulder and he rolled on top of her with a growl and she knew he would take her again as he waved his wand.

* * *

Regulus waited, invisible, against the wall of the alleyway. The light from the Lusty Leprechaun's obnoxious green neon sign made it seem like it was underwater. The dim greenish glow and the rain soaking through him reminded him of being back in the lake, turning his stomach. Glancing around, he saw a shadow move and pointed his wand at it as a great black dog emerged, approaching cautiously. It sniffed the air and Regulus removed the disillusionment charm as Sirius turned back into his human self.

"Well?" Regulus asked coldly.

"Caractacus Burke. That's who the man in the shack was. At least that's what Dumbledore said. Smelled a bit too much like a dead guy for me to be sure."

Regulus said nothing; considering the information, along with the timeline Hermione had drawn out for him. Burke had been missing for years after his former apprentice left. "Did Dumbledore have anything else to say?"

"Yeah. He said to tell you that Fenrir Greyback has been scoping out Hogwarts. Dumbledore's increased the protections. No one with a Dark Mark can enter the grounds. You'll die if you try."

That was good to know. He had a feeling Voldemort would be pleased to learn this bit of news.

"Good. And the path through the Shrieking Shack?"

"Still untouched. You can get in that way. There's a secrecy sensor that Dumbledore made undetectable at the entrance of the Whomping Willow though. If anyone comes through, he'll know."

"Good to know." He began formulating a plan. "Is that all?"

Sirius hesitated, but took a step closer to Regulus. "Andromeda misses you. She asks about you every time I see her."

Regulus bit his cheek. "You haven't told her about me, have you?"

"About being a decent person? Of course not, Reg. You don't need to worry about anyone finding out about that. Your secret is safe with me."

"Nothing is safe with you." Regulus turned to disapparate, but Sirius called him back again.

Sirius's voice reached him."Reggie, listen, there's some things you should know about that witch of yours."

"She's not my witch, Sirius. Her name is Hermione."

"Well, _Hermione _doesn't show up on any record I can find, foreign or otherwise."

"I'm aware."

"Well, are you also aware that she's become rather _close _with Rabastan Lestrange and Evan Rosier?"

Regulus narrowed his eyes, glaring at his brother and raising his wand. "Careful," he warned through gritted teeth.

"Reggie, please. It's my job to spy on people for the Order, especially those who are close to multiple known Death Eaters! I saw her with Rabastan Lestrange having a sweet little picnic and fucking each other's brains out!"

"Shut up about her!" Regulus stabbed his wand up under his brother's chin. He didn't want to hear any of this. He tried to block out the thoughts of her with Evan or Rab. It was bad enough knowing she was with them; he didn't need to hear the details that confirmed his fears.

Sirius's hands hovered in the air. "I'm only trying to make sure you don't get hurt. She's using you, Reg."

"No, she isn't. She's using _them_ for information. We think one of them has something we need."

"She's using them for a lot more than information."

Regulus shoved his brother against the stone wall. "So this is what you've been doing? Following my girlfriend around? Spying on her? _You're sick_."

"I'm trying to protect you!"

Regulus sneered. "I don't need you to protect me. Stop following Hermione. Are we clear?" He jabbed his wand a little harder than was necessary.

Swallowing, Sirius nodded, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. As Regulus dropped his hands Sirius shook out his hair, massaging his neck.

"We're done here," Regulus scowled, lowering his wand and turning to leave.

"Wait, Reggie."

Regulus grit his teeth, knowing he would regret it, but turned back to face his brother all the same. "What is it?"

"How can you trust this witch so easily, but you won't trust your own brother?"

"_She's_ never given me any reason to doubt her." And with that, he turned away and pushed the image of his brother's dejection from his mind, disapparating far away.


	33. Chapter 33: In the Library

**Chapter 33: In the Library**

It was nearing midnight in the Magical Law section of the Ministry's library as Regulus wandered back past the dusty shelves of thick leather-bound volumes. The lights had been dimmed and there wasn't a soul left in this wing. He turned left, then right, then left again, until he found Hermione surrounded by several stacks marked with bits of paper sticking out here and there.

She was frantically scribbling down notes on a long sheet of parchment when Regulus leaned over the stack and quietly set down a bag and a cup of tea in front of her.

Hermione glanced up in surprise, rubbing at her eyes.

"Heard you were pulling a late shift tonight," Regulus said casually, moving aside one of the stacks and pushing the cup and bag towards her.

"Cassiopeia told you, didn't she?"

He nodded and she sighed, shoving her parchment and all her notes aside.

"You're not supposed to bring food and drinks in here…" Hermione reminded him with a reproachful look.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Hermione, it's the middle of the night. No one is here. Besides, we'll clean up any mess we make. Just eat." He pushed the bag towards her and after giving him a look she peeked into the bag and then reached in to pull out the sandwich he had brought her.

"Ham?" she asked.

"Turkey. I hope that's alright."

But she was already biting into it hungrily. Casting a silencing charm, she pushed her book aside and glanced around to make sure they were really alone. "I'm glad you're here, actually. I think the Lestranges definitely have the horcrux. I've checked the different properties that I've visited with both Rab and Evan and haven't found anything, but the other day Rab definitely hinted that the Lestranges are trusted just as much as Lucius. And the way he said it leads me to believe that they have it in their possession."

"But if it isn't in their home, do you think it might be in their vault at Gringotts?"

"I don't know. It could be anywhere. The Lestranges probably have tons of secret hideaways."

"But still, shouldn't we try sneaking into the vaults?" Regulus prompted. It was not the first time he had mentioned it.

"Regulus, you know why that's a bad idea. For one, the protections are sure to be enough to keep us out and we'll definitely be caught."

"But this is the last one. If it is there, it's worth the risk."

"No, it isn't. If we're caught or killed or imprisoned this will all be for nothing. Or worse, it might not be there at all! And then there will still be one horcrux left undestroyed."

"Fine, fine," he said, sighing. They had discussed this before and Hermione was dead set on exhausting all other options before attempting to break into Gringotts in the vain hope that it might be there. "I still think you should just leave me alone with Rab for an hour or two and I'd be able to get the information out of him."

"We're not torturing anyone or putting anyone under the imperius curse, Regulus," Hermione said dryly.

"I never said that I'd do either of those things. I'll just shove a vial of veritaserum down his throat and question him politely." Although he secretly thought getting a few punches in might not be a bad thing. If nothing else, he would find it therapeutic.

"We're not going to hold people hostage either," she quipped, giving him a sharp look.

"Fine. But you're being entirely too decent towards Rab."

"And you should be a little more decent to him. I thought he was your friend."

"Slytherin friends are just enemies we've made temporary peace with. And right now, Rab and I are at war."

"Not over me, I hope."

He raised his eyebrows. "What else is worth going to war over besides a beautiful woman?" he smirked.

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes as her cheeks pinked a little and she pulled the book closer to her.

Regulus smiled and leaned back in his chair. "How's the research coming along?" he asked, pulling out a second sandwich and studying the titles of the volumes in front of him.

"Oh, it's been difficult to find anything. Centaurs have such different cultural customs and their general distrust of wizards and our legal procedures makes it nearly impossible to find previous cases to draw evidence from. And the ones I have found so far are so obviously skewed in the wizard's favor that they're useless." She groaned and slumped, resting her head on her hand. "Shockingly, wizards have taken away massive amounts of territory from centaurs over the past few centuries and now herds are struggling to hold onto the little land they have left." She took another bite and shook her head. "I just don't think that past legislation and court cases are going to support the centaurs' rights. Especially with the way the Wizengamot has been voting these days. It's hopeless," she groaned again, rubbing her temples.

Regulus frowned. "That is the most un-Hermioneish thing I have ever heard you say. Come on. Walk through the points of the case with me and we'll come up with something that will help. Maybe if we tie it back to that case in 1890 on mermish riparian water rights or something similar it will give the case more precedent."

They talked until their sandwiches were gone and they were both on their second cup of tea. Hermione set to work as Regulus helped her look up examples from mermish environmental cases within the last hundred years.

As she copied out the examples onto her note paper Regulus pulled his sketch pad from his bag and leaned back in the chair as he set to work. He liked the feel of the charcoal pencil in his hand as it slid across the page. Smudging at certain spots as he went, he lost himself in the lines and angles and light and shadow.

Hermione felt his eyes flick to her and away again several times. Glancing up, she asked what he was drawing.

"The library," he said.

"Can I see it?"

"No," Regulus said, brushing at a spot in the corner with his thumb.

Taken aback, Hermione frowned and pulled out her wand. "_Accio._" The sketchbook flew from his hands to hers.

"Hey!"

He reached across the table, but Hermione pulled it closer to herself, holding it up to the light. It was a detailed sketch of her hunched next to towering stacks of books, a focused expression on her face. She had not even realized she had been biting her lip as she worked until she saw her expression there on the page. "This isn't a drawing of the library, this is a drawing of _me_," she retorted as he stood with his hands on the tabletop, watching her assess his drawing.

"Well, I was focusing on the most interesting part…" he said, holding up his hand to take his sketchbook back.

Hermione studied it a moment longer before she returned it to him. "I can't believe you didn't want me to see it. It's quite good."

"Yes, but you would have been far less interested if I had told you the truth," he said, picking up his pencil once more. "And you would be making that face you make when you're embarrassed and it would have ruined all my hard work."

Hermione gave him a look of mild irritation.

"Yes, that's the one."

Rolling her eyes, she couldn't help but smile. "You Slytherins and your trickery. Can't you be straightforward?"

"No. It's much more fun this way," he teased, flashing her a smug grin over the top of his sketchpad as he continued to work. "Besides, you Gryffindors are so easily baited."

"That's not true!" Hermione blurted out before she could stop herself.

Regulus raised a teasing eyebrow and smirked up at her in triumph. Hermione turned red and he chuckled. "Case and point."

"I thought you believed all those house differences were rubbish."

"I do. At least the common ones. Gryffindors aren't all brave. Ravenclaws aren't all geniuses. Hufflepuffs aren't all teddy bears. And-"

"-Slytherins aren't all evil spawn?" Hermione finished with a wide grin.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Precisely. I think it comes down to a much simpler distinction between the houses."

"Which is?" Hermione prompted.

"A Gryffindor would die _for_ you. A Hufflepuff would die _with_ you. And a Slytherin would _kill_ for you."

Hermione made a face, but leaned back in her chair to think about it and found that it fit fairly well. "What about Ravenclaws?"

"A Ravenclaw would probably come up with a solution where no one dies," he shrugged, earning a small smile from Hermione.

"That's not what I thought you were going to say," she commented, turning a bit pink.

"What did you think I was going to say?"

She turned an even darker shade of crimson. "I thought you were going to give one of those obnoxious quidditch chants."

He raised an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Hermione made a face at him and rolled her eyes as her blush spread. Tilting her head to hide her embarrassment, she tried to remember the exact lines from some of the ones she heard over the years. "Oh, you know. It's always like…'Ravenclaws might make you soar and Gryffindors might make you roar, while Slytherins leave you wanting more, but with Hufflepuffs you'll always score.'"

It took a great deal of willpower not to crack a smile as she turned positively crimson. "No, I've never heard anything like that. Please share more," he said in his deadpan expression.

"Oh, sod off," she retorted, as he cracked a smile and laughed.

"Of course you went with a Hufflepuff one. They're always the tamest ones. The Slytherins would always start off far worse."

"Which is precisely why I will not be repeating any of theirs." She glanced up at his smile and giggled before covering her mouth and glancing around nervously as it echoed around them.

"I think you're fine. We're definitely the only ones left in here by now. Besides, Madam Pince isn't going to come around the corner and start berating you."

Hermione snorted and laughed at the mental image. "Of course not. I have dirt on her, remember?"

Now it was his turn to laugh. "Oh, I almost forgot about that. Do you think that she and Filch are seeing each other at this point in time?"

Hermione shrugged. "Who knows. Honestly, I try not to think about it."

Regulus laughed at her expression and agreed. "Probably for the best."

Hermione glanced again at his sketchbook in his hands. "Can I see what else you've drawn?"

"Are you going to steal it away from me again if I say no?"

"Probably," she teased.

"Then I really don't have a choice, do I?" he grinned and moved to the seat next to her as she pushed her stack of books aside.

The first one was a page filled with sketches of his owl, Rami. "I like this one," she said, pointing to one of the owl sleeping.

The next several pages were aerial shots looking down over landscapes. There were a few she recognized as the Hogwarts grounds, the cottage, and Hogsmead. "Where's this one?" she asked, pointing to a more natural landscape that didn't have any buildings.

"That's where we went after Slughorn's party," he said. "That's the field where I go flying. You'd probably recognize it if you went more than five feet off the ground."

"I think I'll stick with the view from the ground, thanks."

The next page held a series of hands. One of them, the largest one in the center, was his left hand, palm up, sleeve pulled back to the elbow revealing the Dark Mark.

She flipped ahead until another one caught her eye. It spanned across two full pages, a sharp rock jutting from a black lake surrounded by a misty glow. Dead hands stuck out from the water. But the perspective was coming from the water. A shiver ran down her spine.

"Sorry," he said, turning the page over. "I draw what I dream sometimes. When I can't sleep."

She glanced up at him hesitantly. "You never talk about it," she said softly.

"I haven't really wanted to talk about it," he told her. "It's not something I care to relive. But in my dreams I can't help it. Putting it down on paper helps me put it somewhere else, so to speak."

She nodded and turned the page. This one was of the library back at Grimmauld Place, and was similar to the same one he had been working on. It showed her sitting across from him, surrounded by open books, twirling her hair around her wand and biting her lower lip as she concentrated. The sunlight streamed through the window, making her hair shine. "Do I always bite my lip when I study?"

"Only when you're concentrating really hard."

The next one was also of her, this time in the dress from Slughorn's party.

Turning the page, she was delighted to see several detailed drawings of birds from her birthday trip. She pointed excitedly to several of them, naming them and reminiscing about their experience. Regulus smiled when she told him she still had the feather he had given her from that trip.

The next page made her blush considerably. It was from a rather intimate moment during their time at the Black family manor. Her hair was splayed around her as she slept, covered in the blanket she clutched in her hand. Her face was peaceful, a small, contented smile resting there.

"Sorry," Regulus murmured, turning the page, his cheeks going a bit pink. "I forgot that was in there."

"Did you draw that from memory?"

"Um, yes, actually." He blushed and closed the sketchbook, obviously embarrassed.

"It's quite good," Hermione said, and the color in his cheeks faded away. She even caught a hint of a smile before he put the sketchbook away and cleared his throat.

"Well, I think I've got all that I need for the time being. I'll run my notes by Clair and Wolfram tomorrow."

She waved her wand and the books returned themselves to their original shelves.

With a sweeping motion from his wand, Regulus cleared away any leftover crumbs as Hermione packed her bag. "Would you like me to take you home?" he offered as they began to walk back along the bookcases.

"Actually," Hermione paused and Regulus turned around, giving her a curious look. "I already told Cassiopeia I might just stay at the office tonight. Would you... maybe... want to spend some time together?"

Something stirred behind his sleepy exterior. He turned to face her. "And what did you have in mind, dare I ask, at this late hour?" he stepped closer to her, smirking down at her with his smug smile.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. His silver eyes seemed to glow in the dim darkness of the library. His tall, athletic figure hovered close to her as he braced himself against the bookcase and while she knew he was trying to tease her, her heart began to beat faster. Still, she wouldn't let him gain the upper hand with his imposing height and bewitching gaze. Lifting her chin, she grabbed onto his tie and slid it between her fingers.

His breath hitched as she met his gaze with her dark, clever eyes. As she stroked down his tie he felt the blood in him rush southward. His eyes flicked to her lips as desire pressed in on him, clouding his mind.

"I'm sure you can use your imagination," she whispered, pushing herself up on her tiptoes to kiss him. It was slow at first, as she gently teased his lips in hers, leaning in deep for a moment before pulling away.

It drove him wild with lustful longing until he couldn't stand the teasing a moment longer and pulled her tight against him, crashing their lips together as he tilted her head back to kiss her deeper. To his surprise, she backed him against one of the bookcases, pushing upwards, kissing him fiercely. Her hands wound in his hair, threading through it passionately. Regulus ran his fingers through her curls with one hand while the other traced down her neck. She broke from his lips and moved to his neck and he groaned, arching against her.

Slightly stunned by his eager reaction, Hermione quickly changed gears and began unbuttoning his shirt as her lips recaptured his. Once she reached the last button she slid her warm palms up and down his chest, cresting over every hard plane of muscle downward until her hands slid into his trousers.

Regulus groaned, catching her hand in his with his seeker's reflexes and pulling it back out. Startled, Hermione broke the kiss and looked into his eyes and saw his desire burning there. His muscled chest rose and fell with each heavy breath as he held her gaze. Then he crouched and scooped her up in his arms. Her thighs gripped his waist as her legs wound around him and he flipped them around so that her back was against the flat wood of the bookcases at the end of the aisle.

Hermione had never breathed a word to anyone that it had always been a fantasy of hers to kiss someone like this in a library. Something about it felt so... forbidden. And it enticed her further.

Regulus's hands cupped her bum as he pressed against her with his full body weight. His nerves seemed to vanish as she squeezed him tight with her legs and ran her fingers through his hair and down his chest. He began sucking and kissing her neck, drawing forth a whimper of longing from her. As her nails gently bit into his shoulder he groaned and ground against her central heat.

With one hand she undid her blouse and he latched onto her breast, sucking the delicate skin along her bra. Repositioning carefully, so as not to cause her discomfort, he slid his left hand out from around the curve of her bum and up to her breast, kneading and massaging it through her bra.

She let out another whimper as his ministrations aroused her further, burning her up inside. "Regulus...Regulus, please. I want you…"

He recaptured her lips with his own and his hand disappeared from her breast to grab his wand. He performed the contraception spell and vanished Hermione's knickers. He kissed her again as he undid his fly and released his aching cock.

She hitched up her skirt and gripped him tightly as he slid his cock against her hot, wet crease, making her shudder in anticipation. "Regulus, please," she begged. "I need you. I want you," she breathed in his ear.

"Hermione," he whispered as he slid up into her. She let out a gasp as he hit that deep, sensitive spot within her. The sweet lavender scent of her hair that mixed with the aged vanilla scent of old books was intoxicating. "Mmm, I always want you, Hermione." Enveloped in her sweet, delicious warmth he began to thrust, adjusting to the new sensation and position.

Hermione held on tightly to him as his hot breath tickled her ear with every thrust. Biting her lip to keep from crying out, she whimpered again as her pleasure rose and crested. She fisted her fingers in his hair and clenched her legs tighter, pulling him in deeper as she reached her orgasm's apex. It took all her willpower not to cry out as her body shuddered with waves of pleasure.

Regulus winced slightly, taking her and setting her down carefully once she had stopped quivering. Her legs wobbled beneath her, still reeling, and Regulus caught her to steady her. After a moment she found her footing again and grinned at Regulus, who was tucking himself back into his pants. This time it was Hermione's hand that latched onto his wrist and she grinned coyly up at him, shaking her head. She pulled him over to a nearby table next to one of the false windows and hopped up on it, wrapping her legs around him once again.

Regulus surged forward, pressing her back against the table, eager to continue. He slid into her and hovered above her, pulling her to the edge of the sturdy wood tabletop as his hand roamed over her body, finally lacing through her own fingers and raising her hand above her head.

Arching her back, begging for more contact, she felt tiny exploding stars of pleasure as he stroked the sensitive spots inside her like live wires. "Ohh… Regulus… You feel so good," she said breathily in his ear.

He sucked on her neck, increasing his tempo. She felt another orgasm crest over her just as her name fell from his lips and he gave a final, powerful thrust.

His body hovered over her, panting, until she pulled him down on top of her, making him laugh. Hermione giggled too as he pushed himself up and off of her.

"Was that what you were imagining?" she teased, buttoning her shirt back up and cleaning up their mess with a wave of her wand.

"Something along those lines, yeah," he grinned, zipping up his pants. "Except in my imagination my arms didn't hurt as much as they do."

Hermione laughed then covered her mouth and apologized. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Regulus shook his head. "No, don't worry about it. I'm only joking. I'm very strong," he teased. "Besides, I think that was worth some sore muscles."

Hermione blushed, but agreed. "You're not too sore, I hope?"

Regulus rubbed one of his arms and rolled his shoulders, loosening up his stiff muscles. "No, not too sore. Why?"

Hermione grinned at him and laced her fingers in his tie once more. "I thought maybe we could go to the cottage and give it another go." She kissed him again, long and slow and sweet. "What do you say?" she grinned, leaning back with her arms around his neck.

"Merlin, yes."

Placing a quick peck on his cheek, she smiled at him. "Race you there?" She grabbed her bag and ran for the exit of the library as Regulus chased after her.


	34. Chapter 34: Wanders with Werewolves

**A/N: Trigger Warning:** **Content in this chapter may be disturbing to some readers. Discretion is advised. **

* * *

**Chapter 34: Wanders with Werewolves**

Sirius's information about the castle proved useful. The Dark Lord was pleased to find out about the new magic wards in place around Hogwarts before any plan was put into action. Regulus was gaining favor with the Dark Lord more and more as his information proved true. As May began to fade with the spring showers, Voldemort instructed him to meet with Fenrir Greyback and scout out other possible secret paths that might lead into Hogwarts. The two of them were tasked with finding a way into the castle grounds unscathed. The time to launch an attack on the school was nearing. The summer months would see the children sent home and the teachers stretched thin. With its resources weakened, Hogwarts would be far easier to attack. Regulus and Hermione were running out of time. If it came to an assault on the castle with the full might of the Dark Lord, not even Dumbledore would stand a chance.

On the night of the scouting mission Regulus did his best to hide his mounting terror. Heart hammering in his chest, he pasted on his trademark stony mask as he prepared to leave the cottage. Taking the black cloak off the hook, he paused. From the corner of his eye he caught Hermione's worried expression staring at him, reflected in the mirror beside the hook. She was worrying her lip and glancing up at him every few seconds as she pretended to read her book in the chair by the fire. "It's going to be fine," he said reassuringly. "I promise." Regulus had left out the part about Fenrir Greyback joining him on his mission when he informed Hermione about it. He was good at lying. It was a skill he had needed to perfect growing up as he did.

Setting the book down, Hermione crossed the space nervously, twisting the ends of her overlong sleeves in her fingers. She was incredibly nervous and hated that he still had to do Voldemort's bidding, putting his life on the line. "If anything happens, call Kreacher. He should be able to get you out."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Did you think I had forgotten about that little loophole?"

"Of course not. I just have to remind you because if I don't tell you to be careful about a million times, you'll get hurt."

He raised his hand and cupped her cheek, kissing her lightly on the forehead as if this were a trivial goodbye as if he were heading to the market.

Her hand caught his wrist and she took a step closer to him, brown eyes pleading. "Please, Regulus, you have to stay safe."

"I promise I'll be fine."

"Maybe I should come with you. I can come under the cloak in case you run into trouble-"

"No, Hermione. You can't risk it. Goyle and Mulciber are coming with me. Just trust me. It's only a scouting mission. I pop over, take a look, then pop back. Simple as that." Another lie. It was easier this time.

Hermione worried at her lip with her teeth. "You'll keep the coin on you. And let me know if you need me."

He nodded and kissed her forehead.

She wrapped her arms around him in the tightest hug she could muster. "Please be safe."

His arms circled around her and he breathed in the calming lavender scent of her hair.

"I love you," she murmured against his chest. He lingered in her arms for a moment, before raising her hand to his lips for a kiss before he departed into the night.

* * *

Regulus met Fenrir at the Hog's Head. He was none too pleased to find him leaning back in his chair with three empty pints in front of him. The werewolf liked to keep his appearance as wolf-like as possible. He kept his face stubbly and filed his nails into long, curved points. He dressed like a muggle biker with a well-worn leather jacket, jeans, and heavy boots. His yellow teeth and aloof demeanor irritated Regulus. "Get up," he ordered, but the werewolf raised the pint in his hand, sloshing the amber liquid.

"Don't be in such a hurry, Black. We've got time. Pull up a seat."

"You've had enough, Greyback. Get up."

Greyback frowned and glowered at him, knocking back the rest of his drink before slamming it down, empty, and standing up to follow him.

Once they were far enough away Fenrir pulled out his wand and the dark fabric of the Death Eater robes slid over his clothes. Pulling the hood up, he cursed under his breath. "You know what I think, Black? I think you look like you need a drink. What's the matter, you got somewhere else to be?"

Regulus ignored him and trudged further up the main road.

"'Course, I'm guessing from the smell on you, your little lady will be missing you fiercely."

Regulus eyed Fenrir carefully, keeping his pace.

"She smells sweet. What's that, lavender? And some fancy French perfume too. Is she waiting up for you, your sweet little thing?"

Regulus felt his hackles rise. Forcing himself to keep walking, he focused on counting his steps in an attempt to tune out Fenrir.

"I always like a woman after a night out prowling around. But the fuckings always best after a fight, if you know what I mean." He chuckled, watching Regulus curiously. Fenrir seemed content to talk without getting a response from Regulus. "Ladies like a man with a little blood on him. Like to play healer and that shit. Does your sweet little thing get off on you all bloodied after a good fight? I'm guessing she does. She wouldn't be with three Death Eaters if she didn't like the danger."

Regulus's cheek twitched and Fenrir barked a laugh.

"Knew I'd get a rise out of you. See, Black, your Dark Lord might not like my kind, but he knows we have our skills. We're better than normal wizards, even if you all don't want to admit it. I'm stronger than you. My senses are far superior to yours, even when I'm human. It's how I know your sweet little thing wears fancy perfume and uses a lavender potion in her hair. It's also how I know your heart has been pounding in your chest like a scared rabbit since you walked into the pub."

Regulus reached the gate of the Shrieking Shack and pushed it open.

"You do a decent job of hiding it, though."

They trudged up the long walk leading to the boarded up shack on the top of the hill.

"Relax, mate. You'll be back in time to shag your sweet little thing soon enough. Best to keep 'em waiting a bit anyway."

Eager for this conversation to be over, Regulus drew his wand and pointed it at the boarded up door.

"Oh, just blast it."

"I can't blast it. No one can know we were here," Regulus said coldly. Tracing along the door with his wand, he muttered a few charms and a bright light glowed around the edges and the door opened after the boards vanished. Regulus pushed open the door and resealed it after Fenrir entered.

Greyback surveyed the room, his eyes wide, excited, and he sniffed the air several times as Regulus began shifting crates away from the secret trapdoor. "Oh, ho! You didn't tell me this was a den. There's still hints of my kind all over this room. And other animals too. And humans… Ahh… I see you brought your sweet little thing here. Knew she liked a bit of danger. What'd I tell you?" He barked a laugh as Regulus froze. If Greyback could smell him and Hermione, then he could smell Sirius too.

"I see you two weren't alone. Enjoying a little threeway? I smell blood and sweat too. Oh, she likes it rough, doesn't she?" he eyed the scuff marks and imprints in the dust.

Regulus wished he could control his heart rate as his heart beat faster in his chest.

Fenrir barked another laugh. "No need to be shy about it, Black. We've all got our kinks. I've shared a woman before."

Regulus flicked his wand and the trapdoor in the floor burst open. "Get in."

Fenrir swaggered past Regulus with a smug grin and hopped down into the tunnel.

Regulus followed, conjuring the hovering balls of light to show them the way. "Do you smell anything down here?" Regulus asked once they had gone a fair way down.

"Just dirt mostly. Place hasn't been used in a while." Fenrir bent his head to dodge a root. "I can't remember her name, but I had this squib bitch that liked to fuck in caves like this."

Regulus thought his eyes might get stuck in the back of his head if he rolled them any harder. Fenrir never shut his trap. Suppressing a sigh, he focused on counting his steps again, measuring in his head about how far they still had to go before they would reach the barrier to the school.

"That's really all squibs and muggles are good for, anyway," Fenrir finished some time later, ducking to avoid hitting his head on an outcropping of rock.

Regulus told him to stop and pointed his wand ahead. They were crossing the barrier into Hogwarts. He probed the magical barrier carefully, testing to make sure there weren't any curses in place. Determining that it was in fact safe to proceed, Regulus took the lead.

"I can smell fresh air. We're almost there," Fenrir told him after a while.

"I'll go first," Regulus said, climbing up through the passage and pressing the knot on the tree. The willow's limbs grew still as they slipped between the green leaves.

"I'll take the lead," Fenrir said, cutting him off and taking a whiff of the air.

Thankful that Fenrir had finally decided to shut his trap, Regulus eyed the castle apprehensively. They disillusioned themselves and crossed the grass.

Fenrir didn't head straight for the entrance to the castle. Instead, he circled around wide, heading towards the lake. Regulus followed, glancing around to be sure they weren't being tracked. Fenrir took them to an outcropping of boulders where he stopped and took long, loud sniffs of the air. "The old man is losing his touch. Looks like no one is guarding the cave entrance from the lake. What do you say, Black? Fancy a little swim?"

"We're here to scout options only, Greyback. Let's move on." Regulus eyed the black water with unease as flashes of memory surfaced. Every wave seemed to hide a dead hand. Shaking his head, he turned away from the lake.

Next they headed around to the back entrance by the greenhouses.

"Wait," Greyback growled as they moved to the back of greenhouse three. Regulus heard the grass rustle ever so slightly and then Fenrir's voice. "_Imperio!_"

Rounding the corner at a sprint Regulus removed the disillusionment charm. "What are you doing?" Regulus hissed, his wand drawn. Then he saw a witch he recognized staring blankly at Fenrir, handing over her wand.

"Good girl," Fenrir said, taking Marlene McKinnon's wand and stowing it in his pocket. Regulus's heart pounded in his chest. "Now turn around, girly. Nice and easy. Against the wall if you don't mind." Marlene obeyed, placing her hands on the wall of the greenhouse.

"What are you doing? There could be others around! We need to go!" Regulus hissed, pointing his wand in all directions, looking for other aurors.

"There's no one else around, Black. I'd smell them if there were. Go keep a look out if you're this antsy and you can have a turn when I'm finished." Fenrir ripped her skirt at the seam.

A spell went off, throwing the werewolf aside.

"What the _fucking hell_, Black?!" Greyback swore, snapping and growling at Regulus.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"What's it look like? Having a bit of fun."

Regulus pointed his wand at Fenrir, his steel cold gaze barely hiding his controlled rage. "We're done here."

"We've got all bloody night to search the grounds. Give me five minutes with the bitch and I'll catch up."

"I said we're _done here_, Greyback." His wand never wavered away as Greyback stood, seething.

"Haven't you figured out how this works yet, Black? We take what we want." He pointed his own wand back at Regulus. "Go on now, Black. You don't want to fight me." He bared his yellow teeth again, a flash of madness sparking in his eye.

"No, I really think I do," Regulus sneered, slashing out with his wand.

Fenrir countered his spell and returned with one of his own. "_Crucio!_" he shouted, and Regulus dodged behind the greenhouse.

Fenrir saying the spell out loud gave Regulus an edge, however. Months of practicing with Hermione had also taught him several tricks. He transfigured a stone into a spiked mace and sent it hurtling at Fenrir's head. His leg locking jinx missed, however, and he cursed as Fenrir sent another cruciatus at him. Flinging himself behind greenhouse four, he caught sight of Fenrir's head turning behind him and used the second of distraction to send a full body bind curse at him just as a huge bear-like dog barreled into Greyback. The spell hit the dog instead, the two crashing hard against the greenhouse.

Fenrir threw the dog aside with a ferocious growl and pointed his wand at it. "_Cruc-_" Fenrir began, but Regulus was faster.

He didn't even hesitate. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

The flash of green hit the werewolf in the head and he fell back against the greenhouse, dead.

Marlene McKinnon groaned and held her head, blinking at the scene before her in confusion.

On instinct, Regulus sent a stunning spell at her and then a cushioning charm to catch her as she fell, so as not to hurt her. It was something he had become quite skilled at after fighting against Hermione. He approached her cautiously and after a moment of thinking he grabbed her wand from Greyback's pocket and put it back in her hand. Raising his wand, he modified her memory and repaired her skirt. It was better if she didn't remember anything.

Turning back to survey the dead body and the stiff dog, he waved his wand and Sirius groaned as he transformed back into his human form. "What are you doing?" Regulus hissed angrily from behind gritted teeth. "You could have gotten yourself killed!"

"Could say the same thing about you, baby brother. You've never taken on a werewolf before."

Regulus rolled his eyes and turned back to look at the dead man on the ground. "He's a human right now, in case you haven't noticed. Or he was." Regulus stared long and hard at the still face, hating the man. Even if he hadn't yet hurt Hermione, he didn't regret killing Greyback.

Sirius held his ribs as he came over to stand next to Regulus. Sirius kicked him with his boot. "Dead alright." A beat passed and then he looked at Regulus, who was still staring down at Greyback with loathing. "Are you okay?"

Regulus responded with a glare from the side of his eye. "I'm fine. Only now I have to explain why Greyback is dead to the Dark Lord."

"Tell him I did it." Regulus glanced at his brother, but Sirius could have sworn he saw his expression soften.

"Don't worry, I was planning on blaming you regardless."

Sirius grinned roguishly. "Well I've already got the bruised ribs to prove there was a scuffle." He laughed and winced and Regulus cracked a smile.

"I suppose I'll need to look the part too. Care to do the honors?"

"Are you asking me to punch you in the face?"

"Come on," Regulus said, turning to him. "I know you've been dying to do it."

Sirius raised his fist. "I've got to say, it feels a lot less sporting when you ask me to do it."

Regulus flashed a roguish side grin. "Want me to punch you too?"

"It seems only fair." They both raised their fists like muggle boxers and Sirius landed a firm hit across his cheek.

Regulus returned in kind, making his brother's nose bleed. "_Mother of Black!_ You hit me way harder than I hit you."

"Slytherin," Regulus shrugged.

"Gryffindor," Sirius smiled, before pulling his brother into a bear-like hug.

"Get off," Regulus grumbled.

Once Sirius had released him, Regulus eyed the scene around them. "Kreacher."

There was a crack and the house elf appeared. He glared angrily at Sirius, who glared back.

"Take care of McKinnon, Sirius. And tell Dumbledore not to post people alone. I warned him that we were coming."

"We're stretched pretty thin as it is. But I'll look after her."

"Right."

"Reggie-"

Regulus looked up at Sirius, who hesitated. "Andromeda misses you. When this is all over, we should talk. She'd love to hear from you again."

"I'd like that. Narcissa is due soon. Maybe we should invite her along too."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll run it by her. Family is important, after all."

Regulus nodded. "Keep the rest of your family safe too, Sirius."

Sirius raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm sure Harry will be perfectly safe with you as his godfather."

Blinking in surprise, Sirius tossed his head and nodded. "Yeah, I'll do that. Take care of yourself, Reggie."

With a grim expression Regulus nodded and grabbed ahold of Fenrir's body. "Kreacher, take me outside the boundary. I'll take care of the rest from there."

Kreacher eyed Sirius and the dead body warily before taking his master's hand and disapparating.

* * *

The Dark Lord was not bothered by Fenrir's death. In fact, other than a brief flick of the wrist to set the corpse of fire, he hardly paid any attention to it as Regulus reported about the entrance near the lake that hadn't been guarded. The Dark Lord was very pleased that the scouting mission had been mostly a success. They had a viable method for entering the grounds and potentially the castle too. With the summer months quickly approaching, the Dark Lord was growing restless, but there was a good chance that an attack on Hogwarts could be made on multiple sides. He was biding his time. Gathering his forces in full strength to strike when the time was right. And it would be. Soon.

Regulus could see it in his eyes as the flames danced in the blood red irises. The battle would come soon and he was running out of time to stop it.


	35. Chapter 35: Naming Day

**A/N: Trigger Warning:** **This chapter contains subject matter that may be disturbing to some readers. **

* * *

**Chapter 35: Naming Day**

Narcissa could barely walk her stomach was so round. She complained of her aching feet, but insisted on walking over to the tree arm in arm with her friend. Hermione walked slowly to keep a comfortable pace for Narcissa as she carried the watering can under her arm.

"Merlin, it's hot today." Narcissa stopped for a moment to wipe the sweat from her brow.

Hermione thought it was actually quite pleasant out, although she didn't say a word of this to Narcissa and instead promptly agreed with her.

"You should see Lucius: he's so doting. He walks with me to visit the tree every morning."

Hermione smiled at Narcissa as they began to walk again. "Is he excited to become a father?"

"Oh yes, he's positively thrilled. He isn't as expressive as others, but I can tell he's really excited for the baby to be here already. Or perhaps maybe he's just ready for his hormonal wife to return to normal," she joked.

"Have you decided on a name yet?" Hermione asked cautiously.

Stretching out a hand to touch the trunk of the tree, Narcissa tilted her head and raised an amused eyebrow. "As if you don't already know with your little gift. Why don't you tell me what name we decided on?"

Hermione put her hand on the tall oak with its glittering green leaves. "His name is Draco," she said, shutting her eyes. "He'll have grey eyes like his mother and sleek, white blond hair like his father. He'll grow up to be very tall and quite handsome. He'll be a good quidditch player and a brilliant student. What more could a mother ask for?"

Narcissa beamed, rubbing her belly as she looked up at the tree. "Is there anything I should watch out for? You always like to tell me the good, but as his mother it would be nice to know what obstacles he may face."

Hermione offered her the watering can, although by now the tree was large and healthy enough that the watering can was more symbolic than actually of use. Hermione was quiet for a moment, studying the tree and weighing her words. "He will need your strength, I think, when life becomes difficult for him. And do try to make sure he isn't too spoiled."

"Never _too _spoiled," Narcissa smiled. "You are coming to the naming ceremony celebration after he's born, aren't you?"

Hermione smiled back. "Of course. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"It's usually on the seventh day after the birth, assuming we're both recovered enough for a little socializing."

"A little? I expect it to be the party of the century."

"Oh, don't tease. It's not going to be that big. Although it's only fair that all my friends come to mine since I've gone to all of theirs for the past several years. Have you decided who you're going to bring?"

Hermione noticed the careful phrasing and understood exactly what she was asking. "Actually, I was planning on just coming myself. But I'm sure I'll see Regulus, Evan, and Rab there."

"Still haven't picked one yet?"

Hermione shook her head. She still hadn't been able to locate the horcrux. "I didn't think it was possible to care so deeply for three different people at the same time," she admitted. She knew she loved Regulus, but the more time she spent with Rab and Evan the harder it was to admit her affections for them were forced out of necessity, when in fact they had become quite genuine.

"Have any of them made a formal proposal yet?"

"No, not yet. But it should be interesting to see what happens at the party. I suspect all three will propose just to show up the other two. Assuming it doesn't just turn into an outright brawl," Hermione added dryly.

"Oh, come now, it won't be that bad." Hermione raised a skeptical eyebrow and Narcissa couldn't hold back her laugh. "No, yes, you're right, they'll probably glare and flex their muscles before it turns into a total bloodbath. But at least no one will say I throw a boring party."

* * *

Draco Lucius Malfoy was born on the 5th of June, a perfectly happy and healthy little boy to two doting parents. Narcissa had indeed recovered by the time of the seventh day for a proper naming ceremony and the accompanying party.

The rains had come that morning, so the party took place mostly inside of the decorated mansion. Hermione arrived with Cassiopeia, feeling exceptionally nervous. She knew that while Bellatrix could avoid her sister's other events, she would undoubtedly have to attend this celebration honoring her sister's first child.

White peacocks flocked in the garden in front of the house as music and chatter floated out from the large house. Complaining about her hip and the ridiculous amount of stairs leading up to the house, Cassiopeia clutched Hermione's arm a little tighter than she normally would. Not that Hermione minded, of course. In fact, she was quite grateful for Cassiopeia's presence when she met Rab, Rodolphus, and Bellatrix at the door.

Rab bowed to Cassiopeia and then to Hermione as Bellatrix regarded her scathingly. Rodolphus merely nodded his head as he took another drink from his glass. "Hermione, may I introduce my sister-in-law Bellatrix. Bella, this is Hermione. Play nice," he said through gritted teeth.

Bellatrix ignored him, giving Hermione a look of disgust, and greeted her aunt before moving away. Her husband trailed after her with a sigh, taking another sip from his drink as he followed in her footsteps.

"She never was one for manners," Cassiopeia said dully, patting Hermione's arm reassuringly. Hermione couldn't feel her legs, but she willed herself to move as they entered the party.

Narcissa was seated on a sofa surrounded by chairs occupied by a dozen witches crooning over the baby. Hermione just managed to catch the tail end of the conversation as Narcissa explained that the naming ceremony early that morning had been a small, private affair with only close family out in the back field under a tree. She caught Hermione's eye and motioned for her to come and join them. Mrs. Bulstrode stood to make room for Cassiopeia and Hermione. Narcissa was absolutely glowing in delight as she held her little bundle of joy.

Cassiopeia took him into her arms, cradling the small baby with care. "I see you kept with the Black family tradition by naming him Draco," she remarked with a smile.

"His mother is still a Black," she remarked. "He should be proud of his noble ancestry."

"I take it the healers gave a positive review of his health?"

"Yes, they did, Aunt Cassie. Perfectly healthy little boy."

Cassiopeia smiled and pulled back the hat on his head. "I see he's going to have Lucius's hair," Cassiopeia remarked.

"Lucius's father says he looks just like him when he was a baby," Narcissa crooned. "But I have a feeling his eyes will look much more like mine. At least that's what Lucius says."

"He's a darling little boy. Congratulations, my dear."

"Do you want to hold him?" Narcissa asked Hermione next.

Hermione panicked a bit, as she had never held very many babies in her life, and the thought of holding something so small and fragile was incredibly intimidating to her, but she extended her arms and carefully cradled baby Draco.

He was very darling, swaddled up in the soft blanket. Hermione found it difficult to believe as she held the tiny bundle in her arms, that this baby would grow up to be the same Draco Malfoy she knew. But then again, maybe he wouldn't be. Maybe he would be better. Hermione clung to that hope as she smiled down at him.

"I think he likes you," Rab said from behind her. "Can I hold him?" he asked Narcissa, who nodded and helped Hermione transfer him into Rab's arms.

"He looks so small," Hermione said softly as one of his little hands wiggled free from his blanket. Rab let him grab onto his finger. The joy in Rab's eyes pained Hermione as she realized he might have been a father with a little baby of his own to hang onto his finger like Draco was. She never really asked about Abby as she knew it was a sensitive subject for Rab. She had never asked if he had _wanted _to be a father after he found out Abby was pregnant. But he had loved Abby and wanted to marry her and have a family with her. Wasn't that proof enough? With a heavy heart Hermione looked at Rab and tried to smile, to enjoy the moment while they could.

Mrs. Bulstrode took Draco next and as he left Rab's arms Hermione could have sworn she saw something melancholy flicker across his face. "Rab, would you like to get a drink?" she asked and he happily extended his arm to escort her.

"He's a cute little tyke. Looks just like Lucius with those wispy blond hairs."

Hermione stepped in closer and lowered her voice as Rab poured them both drinks. "Rab... are you okay?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" He handed her the drink and then took a healthy swig of his whiskey.

"Rab…" Hermione said, clutching his arm.

"I'm fine…" he said, with a smile that would have been quite believable if she didn't know him so well.

"I know this must be hard for you." She stroked his arm in a comforting gesture.

"It's not hard," he said, staring down at his shoes. "_It's impossible_," he admitted, in a voice so low only she could hear. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

She pulled him aside, ducking into a corner. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked gently.

"There's nothing to talk about. There's only the future now." His smile was professional, but slightly pained.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "If you need to step away, we can do that. There's plenty of rooms where we can have some privacy."

"I'd be happy to spend some time with you privately, ma cherie," he deflected, kissing her hand.

Hermione sighed. "Rab… I know this isn't easy for you. I'm just trying to help."

"I wouldn't say no if you wanted to help me find one of these private rooms for a little baby-making practice of our own."

"Rab, please." Her cheeks turned a dull pink and it made him smile a genuine smile.

"Don't pretend the thought of sneaking off doesn't get you all hot and bothered," he teased.

Hermione gave him a look. "Rab, I'd be more than happy to find a place if you want to _talk_. Thanks for the drink." She sighed and left to rejoin Narcissa and the rest of the ladies. Spotting a head with sleek black hair, Hermione made her way through the crowd.

She almost ran head first into Severus Snape, one of the last people she expected to meet at the party as they both approached Regulus at the same time.

Raising an eyebrow with his signature sneer, Snape seemed affronted when she stammered a hurried apology.

Regulus, hearing her voice, turned to see them both looking rather uncomfortable. "There you are," he said in greeting, kissing Hermione's hand. "I don't believe you've had the pleasure of meeting Severus in person yet. Sev, this is Hermione."

"How do you do?" he said in a drawling voice, nodding his head in a stiff greeting.

"Hermione. This is my friend Severus Snape."

It took a great deal of effort to paste on a charmed smile at the man who had been so cruel to her and her friends throughout her school years. His hair was different, and it looked like he had made an attempt to comb it. "It's wonderful to finally meet you. Regulus has told me so much about you."

Severus gave Regulus a look and then turned back to Hermione. "All good things," Regulus added.

"Funny, he hasn't mentioned you much at all," Severus said, pinching his thin lips together as he eyed her suspiciously.

Hermione felt her gut twist as she glanced at Regulus. "Well, he's told me a great deal about you. I hear you're exceptionally talented at potions and defense against the dark arts. Are you considering a career in teaching?"

Snape narrowed his eyes at her. "I think my talents could be put to better uses."

"Of course," she said hurriedly, realizing that she had offended him. "I'm sure a man of your talents has many worthy pursuits."

Noticing his friend's tension Regulus stepped in. "Hermione passed her NEWTs with full marks. She's working for Abbott, Millings, and Slathereshin as a junior member of their firm."

"I imagine working with magical law takes a great deal of time. I'm surprised you can manage to fit a courtship into your busy schedule, much less _three_."

Regulus flashed Severus a warning look which he promptly ignored as Hermione's cheeks paled. "Yes, I do keep a full schedule. I don't suppose you are engaged in any courtships at the moment, are you, Mr. Snape?"

He sneered at her, his lip curling back.

Regulus cut in, trying to ease the tension. "Actually, last I heard Severus was seeing a nice witch by the name of Monica Tanner. How are things going with her?"

"Fine," Snape snarled, turning away from Hermione as his sallow cheeks flushed with color. "Regulus, I must offer Lucius my congratulations. I will see you later."

He offered no words of parting for Hermione and Regulus sighed, disgruntled. "Did you have to do that?" he asked under his breath.

"Don't give me that, he started it. He practically called me a trollop!"

"Who still uses the word _trollop_? Hermione, you're supposed to be a modern witch. And Sev is just…" he searched for the right word to describe his friend.

"An ass?" Hermione supplied.

Regulus gave her a look and she grumbled an apology, promising to be nicer next time.

"Have you seen the baby yet?" Hermione ushered him through the crowd to the room where Narcissa was sitting with baby Draco.

"Congratulations," Regulus said to his cousin, greeting her with a smile.

Narcissa beamed back at him. "Do you want to hold him?" she asked.

"Are you sure?" Regulus asked hesitantly as she stood up. Hermione noticed that he had gone very pale.

"Of course. Come hold the newest addition to your family, Reggie." She reminded him to support Draco's head as she placed him in his arms.

Regulus was speechless, focusing so hard on holding the baby with the utmost care that he knew he must be attracting strange looks.

Narcissa laughed. "You look like you've never held a baby before, Reggie!"

"That's because I haven't held a baby before, Narcissa."

She frowned. "Oh, that can't be true."

"It is," he said in a small voice as the women around him laughed.

"Hold him like a quaffle."

"I played seeker, Narcissa."

"You still know how to hold a quaffle, Reggie."

Hermione approached him carefully, helping him adjust his arms and relax a little.

"I've never really done this before," he whispered to her.

"Me neither," she admitted. "I think it's one of those things you learn as you go. Don't worry. You're doing brilliantly."

He adjusted once more and the baby cooed, blinking his eyes up at Regulus.

"Why don't you try sitting down," Narcissa suggested.

Regulus sat on the chair offered to him. "It's a good name: Draco."

Narcissa smiled at the praise. "Thought I'd carry on the family tradition. We can't have him forgetting he's a Black too."

Hermione sat in front of him on the carpet, tucking her skirt beneath her. "Why don't you tell us the story behind his name?"

Regulus shared a smile with her and Narcissa sat next to Regulus, encouraging him with a nod. Glancing at Hermione he grinned and began to tell several stories about a dragon, including one Hermione hadn't heard before from an old druid myth involving a giant and three clever witches.

When Hermione heard it she glanced at Narcissa and gave her a sad smile. She knew it must be her own way of honoring her sister Andromeda even if she wasn't involved in her sister's life.

Regulus finished several minutes later and Narcissa offered to take Draco back, but a voice from behind spoke.

"Might I hold him, Narcissa?" Evan smiled charmingly and took Draco from Regulus with steady confidence, rocking him back and forth with ease. "He's absolutely adorable, Narcissa. You and Lucius must be so proud to have such a handsome little boy."

"He looks so much like Lucius, don't you think?" Narcissa commented, brushing back her hair.

Evan smirked at Regulus when Hermione's attention was on Narcissa. Regulus glared back at his obvious showboating.

"You're very good with him," Hermione commented kindly, standing next to him to look down at the baby.

A muscle in Regulus's jaw twitched at the sight of the two of them looking down at the baby like a couple of new parents. Luckily, at that moment Draco started to cry, fussing as Evan attempted to calm him with a gentle rocking motion. Narcissa stepped in and took him back and he settled down after a couple minutes. Evan looked thoroughly embarrassed at not being able to soothe the crying infant and Regulus smiled smugly.

Hermione saw Rab out of the corner of her eye toss back the rest of his drink and step out of the room. Excusing herself, Hermione followed him, but there was a large group of men discussing the Tornadoes and their recent match who got in her way. When she finally got around them she ran into Slughorn who wanted a quick word with her that she was certain would take an hour at least before he tried to add her to his collection. Promising to find him later, she ducked away and continued her search for Rab who had disappeared from her sight. Peeking around a corner by a large portrait of a sleeping fat blond man with ruddy cheeks and a receding hairline, Hermione edged her way down an unfamiliar hallway.

"So _you're _the one trying to worm her way into my family," came a voice from behind her. She turned to see Bellatrix standing in the empty coordinator behind her, her arms folded across her chest, eyes studying her like a frog she was about to dissect.

"_Bellatrix_," Hermione breathed.

The older woman approached her. She had a cruel beauty about her, the exact opposite of her sister. Without the years of Azkaban there was a less deranged wildness in her eyes, although the look behind them still frightened Hermione.

Her legs went numb, freezing and locking her in place where she stood.

"You don't seem at all remarkable," Bellatrix commented as if Hermione could not hear her, pacing around her like a hyena stalking its prey.

"On the contrary, Hermione is a most accomplished and talented witch," came a voice from behind them. Rab stepped forward from the doorway and came to stand next to Hermione, putting a hand on her back.

"Oh, yes, I'm sure she is quite a _talented _witch to capture the affections of _three _pureblood bachelors. Tell me, Rab, are you going to put this one out to pasture like that last one when you're done with her?" she sneered.

Rab's face darkened, but his grin remained. "You mean out with you? I think not." Bellatrix's lip curled into a vicious sneer. "What? That's what one does with animals that don't produce offspring."

The air around Bellatrix seemed to spark and crackle with anger. Rab, unfazed, leaned down to Hermione. "Why don't you go find some better company, ma cherie," he said, pushing Hermione so that her legs remembered how to walk and she hurried blindly down the hall. Rab watched her until she was out of sight.

Regulus, having followed Hermione from the room, lingered on the other side of the wall, listening intently as Bellatrix turned on Rab.

"_You_ _dare-_"

"Yes, I dare. You of all people should be grateful that I'm courting Hermione. It relieves you of the responsibility of producing an heir for my family. If I marry her and she gives me an heir, it will provide you with more freedom to engage in _other pursuits_, shall we say?" There was a pause and the sound of clinking ice against glass as he sipped his drink. "So I suggest you make an effort and play nice, Bella."

Regulus stepped back as Rab passed through the door, leaving Bellatrix curiously quiet. He knew from experience that whatever was going on through Bellatrix's mind, it wasn't good. Rab's words seemed to have convinced her that perhaps his relationship with Hermione might be worth maintaining for her own personal benefit. What exactly that benefit was, Regulus couldn't be quite certain, although he had several theories. It was no secret that Bellatrix was spending more and more time with the Dark Lord, pursuing his favor. She practically reached for him across the table at the Death Eater meetings. There wasn't any love lost between her and Rodolphus either. Their marriage had always been one of convenience, without any real affection. Still, when she left and vanished back into the crowd Regulus couldn't help but think that she looked rather excited by something.

* * *

Stumbling into the bathroom, Hermione closed the door and braced herself against the marble sink. She looked into the mirror and her resolve broke as she choked on a sob, muffling it with her hand as mental images of Bellatrix holding her against the cold floor rose to the surface and once again she was drawn into the memory of the pain of the spell that sent her body thrashing like it was on fire. The cruel cut of the cursed knife still lingered in her mind like an open wound. She could feel the word there, burned into her.

Turning on the water with a shaking hand she splashed her face, trying to rid herself of the mental image and bring her mind back into the present. The door handle of the bathroom turned and opened as someone peeked inside.

Wiping her bleary eyes, she turned away, trying to hide the evidence that she'd been crying. "I'm fine, Rab, really. You don't-Oh!" She stopped in her tracks as she realized it wasn't Rab at all.

Antonin Dolohov shut the door behind himself, a look of concern on his face. "You don't seem fine to me," he said, stepping forward and offering her a fresh hand towel from a silver tray to dry her tears.

"It's nothing," she said, ignoring the offer and trying to edge past him.

"It's not nothing." He stepped forward, far too close to her, and wiped away a trailing tear with the pad of his thumb. She turned her face to break the contact, and he raised an eyebrow, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before dropping to his side. "Tell me what's wrong. Did you and Rab have a row?"

"No, it's not that. Please, it's fine. I think I'll just rejoin the party," she said, setting the towel down and moving to step around him.

He held out his arm, blocking her path.

She stopped, affronted.

"Come now, tell me who made you cry. I won't move until you tell me what's wrong."

With a huff she took a step back until she hit the counter behind her. Staring at her shoes, she admitted, "It was just something Bellatrix said. But really, it's nothing. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to return to the party." She nodded towards the door.

"But I do mind," Dolohov said with a smile, stepping closer to her. "Because then I wouldn't have you here all to myself." He raised his hand again, this time to graze her exposed shoulder.

Hermione moved her arm away at his touch. "What are you doing?" she asked, uncomfortable.

Dolohov flashed his teeth at her in a relaxed smile. "Don't tell me you haven't felt what I have. I see the way you glance at me when you think no one else is looking."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. She had always kept an eye on Dolohov, the same way one keeps a careful eye on a dog that once bit them. "I assure you, I don't know what you're talking about," she managed, swallowing hard.

He pressed his body against hers and her numb legs began to shake as her whole body froze with fear. He pushed her hair back and dipped his head to breath in her scent. "Don't play coy with me," he said, bracing his other arm against the wall, trapping her. He leaned in next to her ear. "One wizard isn't enough to satisfy you. And not _any _wizards either. _Death Eaters_. Oh no, don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. I know you've seen their marks. It's okay, you know," he wound a finger in one of her curls. "Some women like a little danger in their men. And with three you must have a kink for it." He ground his erection against her, but she was frozen in fear; she couldn't move. "Rab told me how he fucked you in that dungeon of his. And under that willow tree with your sweet little honey trick. You like being somewhere you can be seen, don't you? I like a kinky witch." His hands slid around to cup her ass, pulling her closer.

"Stop it! Get your hands off me!" She tried to squirm, but with his full body weight pressing against her and his arms locking hers to her sides, her struggle was useless.

He chuckled and ground his hips into her, pressing against her hard. "Don't pretend you aren't enjoying yourself. I can feel your heart pounding in your chest." His body was flush with hers as he leaned over her. "I know you want me. I can take you right here. I bet you like it rough, don't you?" He groped her breast and kissed her forcefully, bruising her lips.

Shoving her full weight against him she raised her freed hand and slapped him hard across the face. He stumbled back a half step, but to her terror when he looked back at her with his cheek bright red from where she had struck him, he grinned. "I knew you liked it rough." He grabbed one of her wrists, but this time she kicked him hard and he released her with a grunt of pain.

Seizing her chance, she flew to the door, flinging it open and running down the hall.

"Hermione!" came a voice from behind her and she slowed in time to see Regulus as the bathroom door opened again and Dolohov staggered out, smiling ruefully at her.

But then he saw Regulus a second before he saw his wand pointed at him and was blasted back into the bathroom, landing hard on his back. Black ropes coiled around his body as Regulus looked at Hermione, who was backed against the wall, tears running down her face as she tried to speak. Her voice caught in her throat and she said nothing. That was enough for Regulus. Without a word he sent a stunning spell at Dolohov and locked the door with an angry wave of his wand. He would deal with him soon enough. But right now Hermione needed him. Hurrying over to her, he tried to grab her hand to stop her as her feet carried her down the hall, blindly trying to put as much distance between herself and the man in the bathroom as possible.

She pushed open a door that led outside into the side yard where it was raining.

He managed to grab her wrist and she ripped it away as if his hand was on fire.

"Where are you going?" he asked as she headed out into the field.

"Away," she mumbled. "Have to get away."

He just barely heard her as he jogged to keep pace. "Hermione, are you okay? Did he hurt you?" He was practically shouting at her as she went into the orchard, frantic, but his questions fell on deaf ears.

She did not stop until she reached a large tall oak tree nestled at the edge of a grove. She ducked down and braced herself against the base of the trunk, gasping for air.

All his words of comfort didn't seem to help much as she slowly recovered her breathing, sucking in long, deep breaths. "Are you okay?" he asked again.

Her hand reached out and grabbed onto his, squeezing it tightly.

He squeezed back.

"Dolohov tried... he tried…" But she couldn't finish, inhaling a shuddering breath.

"Take your time."

"He tried to force himself on me!" she burst out, covering her mouth with her hand as she choked, burying her face in shame. "And I just froze!"

He gently stroked her hair and lifted her chin.

She couldn't bear to look at him.

"Hermione, look at me."

She shook her head.

"Hermione, look at me," he insisted, his voice gentle.

She did, sucking in air. His eyes were kind and comforting.

"It is not your fault. It's not. I'm going to call Kreacher and have him take you back home, okay? You're safe now." But even as the words left his lips, he felt guilty. He should have been there sooner. He shouldn't have waited to listen to Rab and Bellatrix.

Something about his thoughts must have crossed his face because Hermione squeezed his hand tightly in hers.

"It's not your fault either. Regulus…"

He kissed her hand and nodded, putting on his stoic mask. "It's going to be alright. I'll tell my aunt you're safe back home. It will all be fine."

"Regulus, wait!"

"Kreacher," he commanded. There was a loud crack and the house elf appeared, bowing low to Regulus, his watery eyes glancing at Hermione's tear-stained face with concern. "Kreacher, take Hermione back to Cassiopeia's. Please tend to her and try to get her to rest. Keep her safe and stay with her until I get back." There was a note in his voice that made it perfectly clear this was more than a cursory request.

Kreacher nodded and extended his hand to Hermione.

She hesitated, glancing at Regulus, her eyes red and worried. "Regulus, please, don't do anything stupid."

The mask smiled politely at her and her face fell. "Don't worry. Kreacher, please take her home."

Kreacher took her hand and before she could object the two vanished with another loud crack.

Regulus returned to the manor and whispered in Cassiopeia's ear and she nodded, politely excusing herself to leave early, complaining of her aching hip.

Narcissa caught Regulus's eye as she watched her aunt depart and handed Draco to Mrs. Parkinson to hold. She approached Regulus and in the time it took for him to tell her what had happened, Narcissa felt her heart fill with rage. "You're certain?"

"Yes. I had to have Kreacher take her home because she was in no fit state to do it herself."

Narcissa nodded.

"I can take care of him quietly, but I can't apparate in here and people might ask questions if I drag his body down the hall. And I really don't want to ruin this special day for you."

Narcissa's lip curled, much like her sister's did when she was enraged. "You were right to come to me with this. We're in my home. I'll take care of it. You go to Hermione. Make sure she's okay."

"Narcissa-"

"Go." Her dark tone was enough for him to understand.

He bowed to her and left, although he paused at the door, glancing at the hallway entrance that led to the room where Dolohov was being held, torn between his desire to protect her and his desire to rip Dolohov limb from limb.

Narcissa glared at him and told him to go with a look only she could manage.

He relented, and left the manor.

Pasting a pleasant smile back onto her face, she stepped away to have a word with her husband.

Pulling him aside, she whispered into his ear and when she finished he nodded at her, promising her he would take care of it.

* * *

Unlocking the door with a muttered spell, Lucius frowned at the bound and unconscious wizard on his bathroom floor. Flicking his wand, the ropes around him vanished and with another wave Dolohov blinked back into consciousness.

Putting a hand on his head, Dolohov groaned and sat up, squinting at Lucius.

"Mind telling me why I found you tied up and unconscious on my bathroom floor, Antonin?"

Dolohov rubbed his eyes and rose to his feet, one hand holding his head as he braced himself against the countertop. "The last thing I remember is Black pointing his wand at me after he caught me having a little rendezvous with Miss Krum."

"_Why_ were you having a 'little rendezvous' with Miss Krum in my home during my son's naming day celebration?" Lucius asked coldly.

Dolohov rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry about that, Lucius. I meant no disrespect, but the witch grabbed me and pulled me in here for a little fun and I couldn't resist giving in." He flashed his teeth and wet his lips, shrugging innocently at Lucius.

Lucius raised a pale eyebrow. "You're saying this 'little rendezvous' was Miss Krum's idea?"

Dolohov nodded. "Precisely. You should have heard the things she was whispering into my ear. The witch wanted me bad and she wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer."

Lucius narrowed his eyes.

"Come on, Lucius. You've heard from Rab what she's like. The witch is insatiable. You'd think three men would be enough for her, but apparently not."

"Miss Krum left in a rather distraught state from what I heard. Why exactly was she so upset, Antonin?"

He shrugged again. "Probably panicked when Black walked in and caught us together."

"Regulus says you were trying to force yourself on her." Lucius's piercing gaze locked onto Dolohov's face.

Dolohov snorted. "Is that so? Trust me, Lucius, she wanted me. She was practically begging me for a little action. Black's got the whole story wrong. And he didn't exactly give me a chance to explain myself before he attacked me."

Lucius pursed his thin lips as Dolohov rolled his shoulder and grimaced. "I see. You should have explained to him what really happened. It isn't a good idea to anger a Black."

Dolohov smirked. "You should know, Lucius. You married one. Still, I think I'll be off. Don't need Rab and Evan getting the wrong idea too."

"That's probably for the best."

Dolohov clapped him on the back as he slipped past Lucius, pausing briefly in the doorway. "Congratulations again on your boy, Lucius. The world needs more men like you."

Lucius watched him leave, ducking out the back and disapparating in the rose garden. A nagging suspicion tugged at the back of his mind, but he ignored it and shut the back door behind him.


	36. Chapter 36: The Aftermath

**A/N: Trigger Warning: **Reader discretion advised.

* * *

**Chapter 36: Aftermath**

Cassiopeia knocked on the door to Hermione's room. To her surprise, Kreacher opened the door and let her inside. He said nothing as he closed the door again behind her.

In the bed, Hermione lay under her blankets, cocooned once more, but this time Crookshanks was lying on top of her like a loaf of fluffy bread.

"Hermione...dear…are you all right?" She sat on the edge of the bed, and Hermione flinched away. Crookshanks hardly seemed to notice. "Regulus told me what happened. Are you all right?"

Hermione shook her head, staring at the middle distance beyond the wallpaper.

"It's not your fault, you know. There are...just bad people in this world who hurt others."

"But I went into that house," Hermione choked out in a whisper. The house where Bellatrix had tortured her. The house where her friends had been killed. The house where Fenrir Greyback and now Antonin Dolohov had tried to rape her. "I should have known better."

Cassiopeia furrowed her brow and put a gentle hand on Hermione's shoulder. "You didn't know what was going to happen. You can't blame yourself."

"I should have. I should have known…" she cursed herself.

"Hermione, dear, it's not your fault."

The doorbell rang and Hermione flinched, tugging the blankets over her head.

"It's probably Regulus."

"I don't want to see him."

"Hermione…"

"Please...I just can't…"

Cassiopeia placed her hand on her shoulder and then rose. She motioned for Kreacher to follow her and the two of them left Hermione alone in her room. As they descended the stairs, Cassiopeia spoke to Kreacher in a low voice. "Did she shower or change her clothes, Kreacher?"

The house elf looked up in surprise, but shook his head. "No, Miss Black. She went straight to bed."

Cassiopeia nodded, worrying at her lip. "Thank you, Kreacher. Thank you for watching over her."

The elf bowed as Cassiopeia reached the front door. She opened it and Regulus stepped inside.

His normally neat hair hung in disarray as he ran his fingers through it. "How is she? Can I see her?" His voice was frantic in a most un-Regulus-like fashion.

"She's still recovering. It's best to give her some space."

Regulus nodded, although his eyes were fixed up the stairs where he knew she must be up in her room. "Kreacher, did you have any trouble getting her home?"

Kreacher shook his head, his fuzzy ears flopping.

"Thank you, Kreacher, for staying with her. I felt better knowing you were there."

"Kreacher is honored to serve Master Black." He dipped into a low bow, but Regulus saw the pride glistening in his eyes at the praise.

"Regulus, might I have a word?" Cassiopeia led him into the living room. She leveled her gaze at him. "I need to know what Dolohov did to her. You said he tried to force himself on her. Did he rape her?"

All the color drained from his face. Hearing the word said aloud caused a visceral reaction and he thought he might be sick. He hadn't allowed himself to think the word, it was too horrible a thought. "I don't know," he said, helplessly, his voice catching on the lump in his throat. "I only saw her running out of the bathroom and then I reacted when I saw him follow her out."

"Was she hurt at all? Did you see any bruises or scratches?"

He shook his head. "I didn't look. Kreacher?" He turned to the elf.

"Miss Krum has a bruise around her left wrist…" Kreacher hesitated, glancing at Regulus who looked panic-stricken.

"Yes, Kreacher?" Cassiopeia prodded.

"Kreacher did not smell blood or anything else that would be cause for alarm."

Regulus nodded numbly and Kreacher averted his eyes. Collapsing onto a chair, Regulus gripped his knees in anger. "I should have been there! This never should have happened. It's all my fault!" He doubled over and gripped his head in his hands, tugging on fistfuls of his hair.

"Regulus it isn't-"

"It is! It is my fault! I knew Bellatrix had upset her. I should have gone then. I shouldn't have left her alone!"

"Regulus, you couldn't have known."

"Known? I did know! I've _known _what kind of a man Dolohov is and what he's capable of for some time now. And after Slughorn's party, I should have known not to let him get anywhere near her again. I should have known, _damn it!_" He pounded his fist on the arm of the chair before burying his face in his hands. "It's all my fault. I swore I would protect her and I can't even do that…"

Cassiopeia sat in the chair beside him and leaned over to rest her hand on his shoulder affectionately. "No one can protect someone from everything, Regulus. It doesn't work like that." She smiled kindly, but he was still distraught. "All you can do is be there for her." That seemed to sober him up, albeit slowly.

Finally, after thinking hard, he nodded, coming to a decision and getting to his feet.

"Where are you going?"

"To see her."

"Regulus, she doesn't want to see anyone right now."

"Then I'll wait until she does. I don't want her to be alone." Rounding the corner he froze.

Hermione was sitting halfway up the stairs, her eyes red and bloodshot, still in her party dress.

Their eyes locked and a moment of intense, palpable silence passed between them as Regulus put his hand on the bannister and slowly climbed up to her. Rising to meet him, she slipped her arms around his neck and buried her face in the crook there as he embraced her like it was second nature.

Cassiopeia smiled at the tender moment between them and did not raise any objections as the two went back upstairs and into Hermione's room.

Hermione shut the door and pulled Regulus into the bed with her, curling up in his arms and taking refuge there.

* * *

Later that night as Narcissa was putting Draco down after his feeding she turned to her husband. "Thank you for throwing Dolohov out earlier. I know that can't have been easy. The two of you have been friends for ages."

Lucius stiffened, but raised his chin.

Noticing his sudden stiffness, Narcissa stood up straight, her face falling.

"I didn't throw him out, Narcissa. He didn't do anything wrong. He left of his own accord."

Narcissa's muscles tightened in anger. "What? What do you mean he didn't do anything wrong? He tried to force himself on my friend! Regulus caught him!"

"Regulus didn't understand what he was seeing. Antonin says that she was the one who came onto him. Regulus just walked in on them and got the wrong impression."

"He said he had to chase after her because she was running away from Dolohov."

"Sounds to me like she was embarrassed or guilty at having been caught with another man and was trying to get away from Regulus."

"Hermione would never do that! She despises Dolohov and this is not the first time he's done something like this to her! I told you what happened at Slughorn's party!"

"I wasn't there, Narcissa. Neither were you. It's all hearsay. For all we know it was consensual."

"You know _better _than that, Lucius! We both do! I've heard stories about what really happens on those raids. I know about the parts the _Prophet _leaves out!" she hurled at him.

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Leave it alone, Narcissa. There's no cause for alarm. Nothing of any real consequence happened. Clearly your friend Miss Krum has quite the sexual appetite, what with _three _wizards at her beck and call. It's not so far-fetched to believe she went to Dolohov of her own volition."

Narcissa reeled back, looking at her husband in disgust. "Are you calling my friend a whore? Believe _me_, Lucius, if you knew her the way I do you would never think that!"

"I'm calling it like I see it, Narcissa. I've heard Rab's stories about her and I'm inclined to believe Antonin."

Narcissaa balled her hands up into fists, furious. "You're wrong! I don't want that man in my house ever again!"

"This is my house, Narcissa. I shall invite whomever I wish!"

"I am your wife, Lucius!"

"And I am your husband! You will let this go. We are done discussing it!" His words echoed throughout the house and Draco began to cry. Narcissa drew her wand and for a brief moment he thought she was going to hex him. Then a white object came hurtling towards them, soaring past her and hitting him in the stomach. It was a pillow: _his_ pillow.

"Sleep somewhere else tonight, Lucius." She picked up her crying infant, soothing him as she glared at her husband.

"You're throwing me out? On our son's naming day?" he said, astonished.

"I am."

"Narcissa-"

"Out!" she hissed angrily.

He lingered for a moment more, but knew from the hard look in her eyes that there was no convincing her otherwise. Pillow in hand, Lucius turned and silently obeyed.

* * *

That evening, Regulus returned home to find his mother and father waiting for him in the living room. Kreacher led him in before falling back into a corner. The faces of the family tapestry seemed to leer down at him. It took effort not to look at the burned spot next to his name. His father leaned back in his chair, nursing a scotch as he stared out the window, deep in thought. His mother stood in front of the tapestry a little ways away by Narcissa's branch. Beneath it was a new baby and the name "Draco Lucius Malfoy" in golden thread inside a scroll of parchment along with his birthday underneath.

"It's nice to have a new addition to the tapestry," he commented.

His mother tilted her head, inspecting it carefully. "It appears Miss Krum was correct in her prediction. New Black blood has been born." She extended her hand and touched the name in the tiny scroll with a finger. "Draco Lucius Malfoy. Curious, considering how the healers told Narcissa she couldn't bear a child to term that she decided to try again and was successful _this time_."

His heart sank into his stomach and he felt ill. "It is a blessing that Draco was born happy and healthy. Narcissa and Lucius are quite thrilled."

"Yes. And new pure blood is always better for the greater good." Walburga's long thin finger trailed up the tapestry to Narcissa and Lucius, lingering on the linking thread between them.

His father had pulled himself away from the window to look at the tapestry as well. "They were a fine match. And now with a trueborn son and heir they continue to do the magical community proud," Orion added. "Which is why we want to talk." Orion and Walburga exchanged a glance and Walburga's cold glare decided who would speak first. "Regulus, as the Black family heir you must carry on the Black family name. Your mother and I believe the time has come to make a formal offer of marriage to Miss Krum."

Regulus felt his whole body turn to stone.

"It has been over half a year since the two of you started courting and you've known each other for almost a full year now. It appears that the two of you are compatible."

His mother turned to him, hands clasped behind her back. "You'll make the offer tomorrow night. I've sent an owl to Cassiopeia inviting them to dinner here." She made to turn around.

"No."

Walburga froze and turned back slowly, a look of irritation tugging at her eyebrow and lower lip. "No?"

"Now is not a good time."

His father lowered his drink. "Why ever not?"

Regulus hesitated. "Miss Krum is not well at the moment. She took ill at the party."

"Nothing contagious, I hope?" his father pressed, eyeing the tapestry where baby Draco's name was.

"I don't believe so. She probably ate something that didn't agree with her." It was easier to lie.

"Is she pregnant?"

They both turned to Walburga in revulsion at her cavalier tone.

"No," Regulus said, in as calm a voice as he could muster.

"You are certain?"

"Quite."

"Well, then if she is ill I suppose we can put it off until she has recovered."

"No."

A dangerous look appeared in his mother's eye. "What do you mean, _no_?"

"I will _not _ask her." His mother leveled her gaze at him. "She is not ready to make a decision yet."

"It has been long enough. Besides, you've known her longer than the other two. She should know you well enough by now. You need to make the offer before Lestrange or Rosier get the opportunity," his father argued.

"If I make an offer of marriage too soon, before she is ready, she might refuse me."

"She won't," his mother replied confidently.

"She might."

"No, she won't."

There was something about her assuredness that made him uneasy. Did his mother know something he didn't? Perhaps something that Cassiopeia let slip? Or had she figured out the lie? It was possible that she didn't know, but merely suspected that Hermione was only truly pursuing a relationship with him. "I am not confident that she would accept."

"She _will_."

And then it hit him, like an icy cold crash from a great height into a frozen lake, as he realized what his mother meant. Why she wanted him to do it here, at the house, after a family dinner with them. Hermione would accept his proposal...willingly or not.

The air around them grew heavy and cold in still silence.

Even his father was frozen, his eyes wide as he gaped at his wife: evidently he had not been privy to this part of the plan.

"How will you do it, _mother?_" he asked in a low voice. Cold anger seeped through his chest and his hands balled into fists. "Slip some potion into her drink? Sprinkle a little powdered siren scale over her food? Maybe even a cursed necklace from the Lestrange family? Or just a good old-fashioned imperius curse?"

Walburga barely reacted, raising her eyebrows as if the means of securing the response she desired from the young witch was immaterial. "I will do whatever needs to be done, if it comes to that." She turned back to the tapestry, is if imagining the new addition of Hermione's name. "She would be a fool to refuse."

"No. She would be _right_ to refuse." He shook his head in disgust as his father stared at Walburga with his mouth agape in abject horror. Regulus turned on his heel, but his mother's voice made him pause.

"Regulus, don't do anything rash in your haste. One way or another you _will _make the offer and she _will _accept." She reached out and touched the baby's name. "The power in her blood will strengthen our own."

* * *

After night had fallen and the house was silent, Regulus sent an emergency message to her with the coin, asking her to meet him immediately.

She arrived at Kraken Cove looking worried, her coin in her hand. "Regulus, what is it?"

"We have a problem," he said seriously.

"I assumed as much from your message. What's wrong?"

He took a deep breath and told her. "My mother wants me to propose to you. Soon. I may have bought us a few days at most by claiming you're ill, but she's intent that I do it soon."

Hermione blinked several times and folded her arms across her chest. "But you're the one who issues the proposal, not her. Can't you just refuse? Or tell her it's not the right time yet?"

"I did. That's the problem. She's intent on arranging a union between us, even if she has to force us."

"But she can't-" And then she registered what he meant from the look in his eye and his grim expression. "Would she do _that_? Your mother, would she _really _use the imperius curse or something else to _force us_ to agree to a match?" Hermione shrank in on herself as Regulus nodded his head.

"She would."

Hermione's eyes went to his neck and shoulders before flicking back up to meet his silver eyes.

After spending so much time together he could read her with ease, knowing what she must be thinking. He steeled himself.

"Did she give you your scars?" she asked softly, finally asking the question he had skirted for months.

There had been times when she had asked about them, as they had lain entangled together in private moments, but he would always kiss her hand and asked not to talk about them and that would be the end of it. But he owed her the truth. She had to know what she was up against. "Yes."

Hermione bit her lips and looked lost for words in her horror and revulsion. "She did that to her _own son_?" She couldn't stop herself.

"She has done many terrible things to her children," he said darkly, forcing back the memories of his brother bleeding on the floor. "Which is why you _need_ to understand. We have to break off the courtship. You have to stop seeing me. At all. I can usually fight off the imperius curse, but there are other ways she might force me to propose and in turn, force you to accept. You have to avoid her at all costs."

"Regulus, I can't just stop seeing you! She'll know what you did and hurt you!" Her brows knit together in concern.

"I'll live. She won't hurt me enough to kill me. At least not while I'm the heir."

"Regulus!"

"No, listen, please. Don't worry about me. Worry about yourself. We still have to get the cup."

"I think it's the Lestrange family who has it. But I haven't managed to get its location out of Rab. Regulus, you were my excuse to leave the courtships with Rab and Evan once I had found the cup. If I break it off with you, I'll have to choose one of them. And I really don't want to do that!"

"You don't have to. You can pick neither."

"Regulus, you know people are already suspicious that I'm seeing three prominent Death Eaters! Voldemort will definitely come after me the moment I break it off with both."

"Then leave the country," he suggested seriously, a strain in his voice at the thought of losing her.

"I can't just leave the country! They're _wizards_. There's magical border controls and with how deep the Death Eaters are in the ministry, they'll definitely know if I try to leave. Besides, no way in bloody hell am I leaving! I told you that from the beginning. I am in this until the end. I'm not running."

His face strained with agony. "Please, Hermione, _please_, just this once, don't be so brave and noble and Gryffindor. Just keep yourself safe. Please." Gripping her by the shoulders he pressed his forehead to hers, clenching his eyes shut as he forced back the thought of what might happen to her. Today had already been proof enough of how dangerous it was just to be around Death Eaters. All he wanted was to keep her safe. "Please, Hermione. Please…"

Silence stretched between them as she said nothing, biting her lip. "Regulus… how… how many days can you give me before you think she'll force the proposal?"

His body sagged in dismay.

"Listen," she said, gripping his face in her hands and forcing him to look at her. "If you give me a few days it might be enough to get something out of Rab."

"Hermione…" he said, exasperated, covering her hand with his and bringing them down between them.

"I can do this, Regulus. Please, trust me."

"But then what? My mother is still going to force the proposal."

"Well, then we'll play along with it."

"Play along? With the engagement?"

"We could break it off."

"Hermione, haven't you been listening? My mother will force this one way or another. She'll make sure we get married. My mother is ruthless."

"But I don't want to lose you." It broke his heart to hear the words and she looked up at him with fierce defiance in her eyes. "I _won't_ lose you," she said, stubbornly.

"You have to." His moonlight silver eyes were hard and in them she could see how much it hurt him to say the words. He didn't want to lose her any more than she wanted to lose him.

Hermione's face fell.

"Hermione, I love you too much to let you anywhere near my family."

"Couldn't it be real?" she asked in a small voice.

He kissed her fingertips. "My feelings for you are real. They always have been." He kissed her and the world disappeared for a moment with her sweet lips. Then the pain hit him like a bludger, knocking him to his knees as the mark on his arm pulsed with red hot knives burrowing into his skin.

Hermione gripped his arms, panicking. "_Regulus?_"

"_He's_ calling," he managed through gritted teeth. "I have to go. We'll figure this out later." He reached for her face, his shaking hand caressing her cheek as he fought the summons. "Go home and be safe."

She nodded, a worried look in her eye as she saw how much pain he was in.

She spun on her heel and vanished before Regulus gave in and let the mark take him.

* * *

Regulus landed on a hard marble floor. Glancing around at his surroundings, he did not recognize where he was. Dark paneled walls gave way to a large stone fireplace. In front of the fireplace stood Lord Voldemort next to Malfoy. Dolohov, Avery, Goyle, and Mulciber stood along the edges of the room. Evan and Rabastan appeared next to him.

Regulus felt his wand ripped from his pocket at the same time it happened to Rab and Evan as well. All three wands flew across the room and into Lucius's outstretched hand. The three of them looked around in surprise.

"Kneel," Voldemort ordered them in his cold voice.

They obeyed, eyes darting to one another as nervous tension filled the room. Whatever was coming for them would surely end in punishment if it meant taking away their wands.

"Mulciber, Goyle, Avery: restrain them."

Domed shields blossomed up from the floor as the wizards pointed their wands at the three men on their knees.

Voldemort paced before them, tilting his head with displeasure. "Do you know why I have brought you here tonight?" he asked.

The three of them looked at each other and shook their heads.

"Really?" Voldemort stopped and stared at them, looking at each one in turn. "Surely you are all aware of the link you share at the moment."

Regulus froze and he saw in his peripheral vision that the others had stiffened as well.

"Are not all three of you currently courting a certain young witch?"

It was Rab who spoke first. "It is true, my lord. All three of us are courting Miss Hermione Krum."

Voldemort turned to him and Rab bowed his head again. "Indeed. And I am told she is a most accomplished witch of reputable birth from a pureblood family. A good match for any of my Death Eaters."

Regulus was certain they all had the same thought running through their heads: was the Dark Lord concerned with their romantic involvement with the same witch? Would he give her to his chosen favorite and force the other two to call off their courtships? Regulus remained very still, waiting, hardly daring to breathe.

"I have also been informed that Miss Krum has a unique and powerful gift: the gift of foresight."

Regulus's heart hammered in his chest and he kept his eyes on the ground.

Voldemort stepped in front of Regulus. "I am also aware that at least one of you has known of her gift for quite some time. Isn't that right, _Black_?"

Regulus looked up into those hard red eyes. He could feel the Dark Lord probing at his mind, but years of legilimency practice kept the Dark Lord from entering and reading his thoughts and memories.

"Why, Black, did you not bring this to my attention? Surely you must realize what a valuable gift it would be to have a Seer working for our cause to help build a better future?"

His mouth went dry, but he forced himself to speak. "It is true, my lord. I was made aware of her _alleged_ ability not long after we met. But even she herself did not understand her prophecies at the time."

"Yes… 'party tricks' is what she referred to them as, isn't that right?"

Regulus nodded. "Yes, my lord."

"Did you not see potential in her 'party trick' as a useful tool in our war against the Order of the Phoenix and the ministry?"

Regulus swallowed and kept his eyes on the ground. "I was not certain at the time if her prophecies were not just coincidences or calculated trickery. I had to be certain she was a genuine Seer before introducing her as an asset."

Evan and Rab were very still on either side of him, listening intently.

"It appears your mother did not agree with your caution. She has sent several accounts of Miss Krum making prophetic statements, some of which contained very specific information. Is it not true that Miss Krum made a prediction in your presence that new Black blood would be born? Did she not also prove that she knew the name and many details about this boy that had not even been conceived, including his name and appearance?"

"I was waiting for proof, my lord. Prophetic statements are known to be misleading."

"And yet you must have suspected when Lucius's wife, your dear cousin, became pregnant that there might be some truth to Miss Krum's predictions?"

"I had my doubts. A pregnancy does not always mean a healthy birth."

From across the room Lucius's lip twitched.

"You had your doubts, yet you pursued a relationship with Miss Krum."

"I did it to keep a close eye on her and record any other predictions she might make."

"Indeed. A most _intuitive_ move on your part. I am sure you reaped no other benefits from your relationship with a lovely young witch…"

The wizards behind him laughed.

Voldemort's thin smile made him look all the more sinister. "It was only after Miss Krum was already involved in courtships with Rabastan and Evan that you pursued her. Out of jealousy, perhaps?"

More snickers from behind him.

"I did it to keep an eye on her. She is a foreign witch and I was not certain of her allegiance to our cause. After she agreed to courtships with Evan and Rab I had my suspicions that she was using them to gather information."

"Let us pretend for a moment that is the true reason why you pursued her; not that I believe it for a moment, Black. If you were suspicious of her, why not inform me then?"

"They were only suspicions. I wanted to wait and see where her true allegiance lay."

"And what have you found?"

"She is a true believer in our cause, my lord."

"And yet still you kept her and her abilities a secret from me," Voldemort hissed.

Regulus bowed his head lower. "I still had to be certain. I was waiting to find out-"

"But you _did_ find out. You must have spoken to your cousin as her pregnancy progressed. Lucius, when did Narcissa decide on your son's name?"

"In her seventh month. Draco, to honor the Black tradition."

"And did she tell Black here what her son's name would be?"

"Yes. She told her family and friends. Including Miss Krum."

Voldemort nodded, never taking his eyes off Regulus.

"My lord, my cousin and Miss Krum are close friends. It was possible she suggested the name to Narcissa."

"That is not true, my lord," Lucius spoke, stepping forward. "Narcissa was with me when she picked the name."

"Careful, Black. Your excuses are running thin. Even after Lucius's son was born you kept her from me. It was your mother who supplied me with proof of the witch's gift. Not you. Not my _loyal _Death Eater." He felt the sting of venom in Voldemort's words and knew what was coming before it hit him. "_Crucio_."

His body seized and convulsed under the rippling pain of the curse. The pain of the curse finally lifted and Regulus was left on the floor, panting as his body twitched.

Rab and Evan flinched nervously as Voldemort's eyes turned to them.

"What about you, Rabastan? Did you know of Miss Krum's gift of foresight?"

Rabastan shook his head vehemently. "No, my lord. This is the first I've heard of it." The cruciatus curse hit him in the stomach and he fell back against the shield charm containing him.

"Do not _lie _to Lord Voldemort."

Rab screamed. "I swear! I swear, I didn't know!" Rab had blood streaming from his nose when the spell was lifted.

Voldemort turned to Evan, who was sweating. "Rosier?"

"I didn't know, my lord. On my life, I didn't know." Yet he too received the cruciatus curse.

"We shall know soon enough which of you has been lying. Dolohov," he turned to Antonin, who stepped forward, bowing low. "You still have Mertin Shalles from the Floo Network bewitched, correct?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Good. Go fetch Miss Krum and bring her here."

Dolohov bowed, a hint of a smile on his lips. "With pleasure, my lord."

Regulus lunged at the shield charm. "_No!"_

Voldemort shot a spell at him, gagging him. Still he strained, pounding against the shield charm. "Silence, Black!" Ropes bound his arms and legs, but he thrashed wildly, trying in vain to stop Dolohov as he flashed his teeth and stepped into the green flames.


	37. Chapter 37: Unforeseen

**A/N: Trigger Warning:** This chapter contains content that may be disturbing for some readers. Discretion is advised.

* * *

**Chapter 27: Unforeseen**

Hermione awoke to the sound of something shattering. From the other room she heard a loud bang and a groan of pain.

There was a crack and Higgy appeared on her bedspread, round eyes shining with fear in the dim light of the dark room, pulling at her hand. "Get up, Miss! You must be getting up!"

Hermione's eyes widened in alarm at the elf's squeaky, fearful voice. "What is it?"

"Someone has broken into the house. We must go!"

Hermione grabbed her wand, raising it in front of her at the ready as she heard footsteps in the room next to hers. "Higgy, get Cassiopeia and go!" Hermione hissed.

"But Miss-"

"Go, now! I'll distract him!"

"But-"

"I'll be fine. Go!"

Higgy was shaking in fear as she looked at Hermione, torn. Then she vanished and Hermione opened the door a crack to see a masked man in Death Eater robes step onto the landing.

She pushed the door open and shot a stunning spell, but the creak of the door alerted the Death Eater a moment beforehand and the spell ricocheted off the wall, shattering a porcelain figurine on one of Cassiopeia's shelves. The Death Eater was fast, sending a jet of orange light at her, which exploded against the door as she slammed it shut, backing further into the room. The door flew off its hinges and she sent a blasting spell out, but it missed. Then an arm jabbed into the room and Hermione was thrown backwards into the dresser, knocking the wind from her lungs. She struggled to breathe as the Death Eater advanced. She pointed her wand at him, but his spell was faster. "_Imperio!_"

It hit her in the face. Her mind went blank and her body relaxed. _Good girl_, said a voice in her head. The Death Eater approached her cautiously as she lowered her wand. _Put the wand down_, the voice said. She obeyed, dropping it to the floor. A gloved hand removed the mask and Dolohov smiled at her. "Good girl." He bent down and pushed aside her hair, wiping at the blood from a cut on her forehead with the pad of his thumb. "You're a real firecracker, aren't you?" He licked the blood. "Mmm...I was hoping we would get the chance to continue our little rendezvous. Now get onto the bed. That's a good girl." Her body rose and obeyed as she sat on the bed. Dolohov grabbed her chin roughly and kissed her. "Now lie back," he instructed her.

She felt her body obey and her own will was silenced, screaming inside of her head to run, to fight, to flee. But her body was still as his hands began to roam over her nightgown, pawing at her breasts.

Dolohov pushed her night dress up and unbuttoned his pants, letting them fall down to his ankles as he stroked himself. "Spread your legs," he ordered. Hermione tried to fight the spell, but her legs parted and he slid his hand up her thigh.

A flying ginger bludger leapt from the top of the dressed, claws extended as it flew at Dolohov, hissing and spitting angrily as it raked its tiny needle-like talons down his back. Dolohov screamed and reeled in pain, dropping his wand as he launched himself off the bed, trying to disentangle himself from the cat.

Without his wand in hand, his concentration broken, the spell holding Hermione prisoner unraveled and the second she had control of her body back she lunged for the wand Dolohov had dropped.

Crookshanks jumped down to the ground and skittered under the dresser as Dolohov dove after him.

Jabbing his own wand at him, Hermione sent him slamming into the wall opposite. He grunted and tried to stand, but with his pants around his ankles he fell. She put a full body bind on him and his body went oddly rigid.

"Why are you here?!" she screamed. She could not help it. There were angry tears in her eyes and uncontrolled fury coursing through her veins. She picked up the mask he had brought and knew where he must have come from. Which meant Regulus was in danger. Thinking quickly, she turned to Dolohov and pointed his wand at him again. It didn't even give her pause now. "_Imperio._" She had never cast the spell before, but the moment it connected she felt like an invisible thread was tying him to her, as if he were a puppet on a string. "Why are you here?" she asked, her voice shaking in rage.

"I was sent to get you."

"Who sent you?" As if she did not know.

"The Dark Lord sent me."

"Why?"

"He wants you."

"What does he want with me?" She tried to take steadying breaths, but her nostrils continued to flare in fury.

"He thinks you have a Seer's Sight. He wants your ability."

"Where's Regulus?"

"With the others. With the Dark Lord."

"Take me to him." She undid the full body bind and Dolohov extended his hand, his eyes vacant.

Hermione hesitated, revulsion coursing through her. She didn't want to touch him. "No. Get on your knees and put your hand down." Dolohov did as he was told. She held him by the back of the neck, pointing her wand at him. "Now. Take me to where he is."

She felt the pull of side-along apparition and found herself standing in a dark room.

All eyes went to her, stunned expressions all around at the sight of her clutching Dolohov by the neck, his pants around his ankles, his face slack-jawed.

Hermione threw him to the ground, his pale naked ass exposed as she pointed his wand at him. "Crucio!"

Dolohov screamed in pain, his body twitching and spasming, yet with no will to resist. She hit him again and again with it before sending him flying across the room where he smacked into the wall hard and fell back unconscious.

She turned towards Voldemort, her chest rising and falling as her nostrils flared, but she kept the wand at her side. "You wanted to meet me?" she said coldly, her hair crackling with electricity.

Voldemort was not the same snake-like bald creature with slit-like nostrils she remembered meeting in her time. His tall, thin body carried with it the same arrogant entitlement and oppressive coldness, however. The eyes were red and his skin looked waxy over his face, reminding her of a vampire.

Voldemort looked from her to Dolohov's unconscious, half-naked body and back again, his lip dragging down sourly. "Yes. Although this was not the manner in which I wanted us to meet. Forgive me for Dolohov's… disobedience. I assure you he will pay dearly for his subservience."

Rab and Evan looked horror struck at the sight before them and Regulus thrashed harder than ever. Lucius stood stock still, his face gravely pale.

Voldemort ignored them. "I have heard rumors about you, Miss Krum. I have reason to believe that you bear the gift of foresight. Is this true?"

Hermione hesitated for the briefest of moments. "It is. Although I would like to know where you got this information from."

"I am afraid you put your trust in the wrong people."

She scanned the faces around her, to Lucius who was avoiding her gaze, to Rab and Evan who were looking at her with bafflement and concern, to the three silent men standing behind them, and finally to Regulus, who was bound and gagged, his silver eyes pleading for forgiveness. A sharp pain split in her chest.

"Oh no, it was not Black who gave you away, Miss Krum. Or at least not the one you think. His mother was the one who first informed me of your special gift."

Hermione turned back to him, meeting his red eyes, cursing herself silently. She shouldn't have let Walburga antagonize her.

"Although young Regulus surely must have known about your gift."

Hermione looked at him and then back to Voldemort who was studying her carefully. Her grip on the wand at her side did not slacken in the slightest. "He did. He was present when I demonstrated my party trick for creating prophecies for Walburga. But Rab and Evan were never made aware of it."

"You are certain?"

"Yes. I hid it from them."

"Why?"

"Prophecies are double-edged swords. I didn't want to accidentally cause them harm. Clearly harm found them anyway," she said guiltily, noting the blood streaming down Rab's nose. "I'm sorry," she said to them.

Rab opened his mouth to speak, but Voldemort held up his hand to silence him. "But Regulus knew you had the Sight?" he pressed.

Hermione pinched her lips together. "He didn't know for certain it was true Sight. I didn't really understand it myself," she lied, hoping her story corroborated what Regulus had told him. "I told them it was a party trick. For most of my life it was. But it's been growing stronger since I came here. I foresaw the birth of the Malfoys' son." She looked at Lucius who glanced away when they made eye contact.

"Which is confirmation that he knew the truth and still kept your power secret from me."

"Regulus does not trust people easily. He had good reason to be suspicious. I am a foreign witch; mostly unknown in these parts. My true allegiance may not have been what I told him. Courting three of your men does increase the odds that I would meet you, and if I was not who I claimed to be, he could have been leading a spy into your midst. He was wrong, of course, not to trust me, but you cannot blame him for his caution."

Voldemort tapped his wand in his hand. "And how do I know you are not a spy?"

"Because if I was a spy, I would have gone to the Order or the Ministry when you sent Dolohov to fetch me. I am here because I foresaw our meeting. I am here to tell you that if you do not heed my warning and act on the prophecy that Severus Snape informed you of, you will bring about your own destruction."

"Why is that? Tell me, what have you foreseen?" He stepped closer to her, intrigued.

"There is more to the prophecy that you don't know." He raised an eyebrow and Hermione recited the prophecy from memory as Dumbledore had relayed it to her. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..." She stopped and leveled her gaze with Voldemort's. "Don't you see? If you were to pursue this prophecy and make it a reality you would bring about your own end. You must not let it come to pass. I am here to help you defeat the enemy that stands before you. The one that has stood against in your way from the beginning: Albus Dumbledore."

An air of silence went around the room as the Death Eaters looked at one another nervously. It was not a good idea to speak that name in front of the Dark Lord. However, Voldemort merely tilted his head curiously. "Will you? I am not yet convinced you will serve me."

Hermione bowed her head before him, though she still kept a tight grip on the wand. "I offer my services to you, my lord," she said humbly. "I know that you do not trust me now, but I also know that one day you will. From this day on, I pledge myself and my skills to you," she said, ignoring the bitter taste of the words in her mouth. She had to sell the lie.

Voldemort studied her for a moment more and then a small, thin grin settled on his face. "Are you certain you wish to pledge yourself to me?"

"I am," she said with dead certainty. She knew what she was doing was dangerous, but she felt the beginnings of a plan forming in her mind. And maybe, just maybe, it might be enough to keep her alive.

"Are you currently pregnant?"

The question caught Hermione off guard. "No..." she answered, confused, fear coursing through her as her heart began to hammer inside her chest.

"No!" Rab and Evan seemed to cry out at the same time. From her peripheral vision she saw Rab and Evan throw themselves against the shields, wandless, banging with fists. Still bound and gagged, Regulus gave muffled cries and thrashed violently.

Slashing his wand, Voldemort sent a silencing charm over them, although they still pounded against the shields.

Hermione's heart was beating like it was trying to escape her chest as Voldemort approached her. But she kept herself still, her eyes downcast at the floor.

"Hold out your arm," he commanded, confirming what Hermione already knew he had planned. She held out her left arm and he reached for her wrist, taking it in his thin fingers. Holding up her wrist, he examined the glamour and waved his wand over it, revealing the red and pink scar seared across her forearm. "I see someone has already marked you," he said in his high, cold voice.

Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed hard, praying that those red eyes couldn't see through the burn to the word "mudblood" carved underneath.

"Who burned you, Miss Krum?"

She swallowed. "A dead man," she lied, keeping her eyes on the floor.

Voldemort peered at her appraisingly, but did not inquire further. "You understand that you will be mine? You will belong to me above all others, including your family and friends. Even your lovers. You will obey me in all things. If I tell you to kill, you will kill. With my mark you will be one of my Death Eaters. With my mark you will be more powerful and more feared than ever before. With my mark your life will belong to me."

Her heart was beating so fast she was certain it would explode out of her chest as he lowered the tip of his wand down to touch her arm. Pain burst like poison seeping into her body. She could feel the ink carving its way, embedding itself into her flesh. She screamed. It was worse than Bellatrix's torture: worse than all the pain she had ever felt. Her body burned in every nerve and every cell of her being. Then when she thought she must be dead it was over.

He released her and she crumpled to the floor, her arm still smoking as the scent of burned flesh permeated the room.

She collapsed, losing consciousness as she hit the floor. The last thing she saw before her vision faded was the black skull with a snake coming out of its mouth branded over her scar.

Regulus strained against his bonds as Hermione hit the floor. He was not alone. Evan and Rabastan were pressed against their shields.

Voldemort waved his wand and the silencing charm dropped away, as did Regulus's bonds.

Regulus spat out the gag, breathing hard.

"Release them," Voldemort ordered.

They surged forward the moment the shields were dropped, but Voldemort held up his hand, pointing his wand in warning. They froze and kneeled once more.

"I was not aware of her gift of foresight, my lord," Evan stated, bowing his head.

"Nor was I," Rab added.

"I believe you. And I believe too that Regulus made an error out of caution, as he so claims. You will not do it again, Black. But I expect you all know why I had to be certain. Treachery will not be tolerated," he hissed, turning his attention over to Dolohov who was groaning in the corner.

Dark energy, the drive to tear the man limb from limb, radiated off of the three wizards as they set eyes on him.

"My lord-"

"Yes, Rabastan. You may deal with Miss Krum and Dolohov in a moment. Patience." He turned to Regulus, who bowed his head. "Black. In the future you will come to me with any information that might be pertinent to our cause. Without hesitation."

Regulus nodded. "Yes, my lord. I will."

"Good. Lucius, return their wands to them."

Lucius did so, avoiding eye contact as he handed them back their wands.

Regulus felt white hot fury flare up inside him, and with his wand in his hand he wanted to hurt. He wanted to kill. He had never felt more like a Death Eater then he did in that moment, his eyes on Dolohov's barely conscious body.

"Dolohov did not obey my orders. He sought to exploit my commands to fulfill his own desires. I do not tolerate such treachery amongst my ranks. Teach Dolohov a lesson. I do not care if he lives or dies." Voldemort waved them forward and stepped back in front of the fireplace and clasped his hands behind his back, smiling as he watched his Death Eaters turn on the man groaning in the corner.

Regulus joined them at Hermione's side. "I'll take care of her," he said, dipping to pick her up.

The other two did not object, rising to face Dolohov, who still had his pants around his ankles. Evan raised his wand, but Rab stowed his and rolled up his sleeves.

Regulus stepped between them, glowering down at Dolohov with deep, burning hatred. "Don't kill him," he ordered coldly. "He doesn't get to die until I've finished with him."

Rab cracked his knuckles. "Don't worry. I plan on taking my time."

Evan's lip curled back in cold fury. "Might want to hurry back, Black. Or all the good bits will be gone."

Regulus turned away, clutching Hermione's unconscious form in his arms, and it took all of his willpower not to turn back and join them as he heard the sweet sound of Dolohov's screams ringing in his ears.


	38. Chapter 38: Picking Up Pieces

**A/N - Trigger Warning: **This chapter contains content that may be disturbing to some readers. Discretion is advised.

* * *

**Chapter 38: Picking Up Pieces**

Regulus took her to Kraken Cove Cottage, laying her down on the bed. Broken strips of moonlight fell upon her like the bars of a prison cell. Gently, he lifted her wrist into a ray of light. The inky black serpent protruding from the mouth of the skull seemed to shimmer in the shadows, as if it were alive. Touching the tip of his wand to her wrist a beige bandage wrapped around her forearm, hiding the mark from view. A phantom pain passed through his forearm where we bore his own mark. The same mark. Shame and regret pooled in his stomach. This was his fault. After all his promises to protect her, all his hope that the good she saw in him would make him a better man had been for nothing. He was nothing but poison to her. Cursing himself, he gripped his head in his hands, digging his nails into his scalp. All he wanted to do was protect her and he had failed. Hating himself and the mark he bore and all that it represented he covered his mouth and pulled the blankets over her with his right hand. Swallowing the inner turmoil roiling within him, he tried to think about what needed to be done. He had to fix this.

"Kreacher."

There was a loud crack and Kreacher appeared. He was mid-bow when he noticed Hermione's wrist hanging off the bed and the mark on her arm. Before the elf could speak, however, Regulus asked him to watch over her and keep her safe while he checked on his aunt. Kreacher nodded and Regulus disapparated.

* * *

When he arrived inside Cassiopeia's home there were pieces of shattered porcelain at the bottom of the staircase. Taking the stairs three at a time, he passed by scorch marks. "Aunt Cass? Are you here?" he called, throwing open the door to her room.

The bedsheets were hanging off at an odd angle and several perfume bottles had been knocked off the top of the dresser, making him wrinkle his nose and cough. But his aunt was nowhere in sight. Just to be sure he checked the other rooms of the house.

He heard a mew from under Hermione's bed. Crookshanks poked his head out and he rubbed against Regulus's hand. "I'm glad you're alright," he said to the ginger cat, putting him on his shoulder. A glint of silver caught his eye. A man's belt lay on the floor and Regulus felt white hot anger bubble up again. Hermione's wand had rolled between the edge of the bed and the nightstand and there was blood on the wall by the dresser. Grabbing her wand and the beaded bag next to her bedside table, he turned around and saw a pair of big round eyes peeking around the corner. "Higgy?"

The elf, recognizing Regulus, stepped out from behind the door. "Is Miss Krum all right?" the elf gasped out, eyes glistening with tears and red from crying. "She told Higgy to take Mistress Black and go and Higgy did. Oh, Higgy is a bad elf for leaving Miss Krum."

Regulus bent down and touched her on the shoulder as she started to cry, tugging on her ears.

"You're not a bad elf, Higgy. Miss Krum is going to be just fine. Now where is Cassiopeia? Is she okay?"

"Higgy took her to St. Mungo's."

"Can you take me to her?"

Higgy nodded and Regulus set Crookshanks down before accepting her hand.

* * *

She apparated him directly into the waiting area of St. Mungo's, stunning multiple witches and wizards in healer's robes. Regulus wasted no time approaching the counter to ask about his aunt.

He followed the witch down several corridors into a wing off to the east until they passed through a set of yellow doors and then into room 348.

Cassiopeia was sitting upright in bed, her arms crossed angrily as she spoke to the healer holding her chart. "I don't care what the protocol is, Watts. I'm perfectly capable of mending my own ribs. Now if you'll just hand me my wand we can move on from this pointless argument."

"Listen to the healer, Aunt Cass," Regulus said, stepping into the room and making his presence known.

"Oh thank goodness, Regulus. Is Hermione alright?" she asked hurriedly, holding her hand to her side and wincing.

"Was someone else injured in your fall?" Watts asked concernedly.

"Hermione is… fine," Regulus told her with a meaningful look that she understood right away.

Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes at the healer. "Oh, go on then, heal my ribs before I change my mind. Or I'll break yours instead," she grumbled as the healer tapped her with his wand. Cassiopeia groaned and rubbed her side as the healer left the two of them alone. There was no one else in the wing at this time of night. "Amateur," Cassiopeia muttered under her breath as the man left the room.

"Are you all right?" Regulus asked, sitting next to her.

"Yes, yes. I'll be fine. Blacks are made of tougher stuff than most. Although it seems I'm getting to be too old for fighting. Barely got two spells off before that Death Eater got the better of me. But never mind me, how is Hermione? Is she alright? What happened?"

Regulus put up a silencing charm and told her what had transpired to the best of his knowledge. He hadn't got past Hermione arriving with Dolohov with his pants around his ankles when Cassiopeia burst out in anger.

"That horrible man! That wretched, horrible, horrible man! Oh, give me an hour alone with him, just you watch. I'll strip his skin off inch by inch and turn his bones into a giant game of Exploding Snap. Where is he?" she asked viciously, wincing as she strained against her freshly healed ribs.

Regulus managed to calm her down and finish the rest of the story. His aunt looked at him gravely when he told her what Walburga had done. By the time he told her about Voldemort marking Hermione she covered her mouth in horror.

"No. He didn't!"

"He did."

She sank back into her pillows, her eyes pinched shut in disbelief. "That poor, brave girl. Where is she now?"

"She's safe. I have Kreacher watching over her."

"Good, good."

"There's more though," he explained, telling her about what his mother had said about forcing an engagement between them.

Once more Cassiopeia tried to get out of bed in a huff and Higgy, who had been sobbing at the foot of the bed, made her lie back down. "What is Walburga thinking? She's cracked again, I see. Listen, Regulus, I'll talk to her and take care of this. Circumstances have changed. And look at what's come of her meddling! Ugh, if she wasn't my blood I'd have her hide mounted on my wall."

Regulus shook his head. "Leave that to me."

"Regulus, no!" she snapped, grabbing his wrist with surprising strength. "She's dangerous. You can't just run in there without a plan."

"It's going to be fine," he said soothingly, patting her hand. She released him and he kissed her on the forehead. "Get some rest, Aunt Cass."

Higgy pulled the blankets up over her as Regulus turned towards the door.

* * *

It was nearly dawn as he stood on the front stoop, dreary clouds overhead. Images of the previous day and night swirled in his head. Dolohov following Hermione out of the bathroom. His belt on the floor of Hermione's room. The look on her face as she used the cruciatus curse on him. It must have taken a great deal of courage to walk into the basilisk's den after fighting off a snake like Dolohov. And now she was marked by Voldemort. She had withstood the pain of the branding. Withstood the pain of all of it.

He pushed the door open as the rain started to fall and thunder raged overhead. His mother was at the breakfast table across from his father, tapping her wand against the table in irritation. "Where is Kreacher?" she asked pointedly when she saw him standing in the archway. "Breakfast is late."

His grip tightened on his wand. "Kreacher is with Hermione. I ordered him to look after her."

"Is she still ill?"

"She was never ill," Regulus admitted.

His mother stopped tapping her wand and his father set down his paper. "_What?_" Walburga hissed.

"She was never ill, mother. That was a lie. You see, Antonin Dolohov tried to force himself on her at Malfoy Manor yesterday. She was so distraught I had to have Kreacher take her home. And later, after you told me you would force Hermione to become my wife one way or another, I met with her to break off our relationship. But I was summoned by the Dark Lord along with Rabastan and Evan. You know why, of course, don't you? After all, you were the one feeding him information about Hermione's prophetic gift. And naturally he wanted to know why I didn't share the information with him. He tortured me for that, mother. Not that you care. And he sent Dolohov to fetch Hermione in the middle of the night from Cassiopeia's. Dolohov attacked Cassiopeia, you know. She's at St. Mungo's now."

Walburga frowned but showed little interest besides that.

"And what do you think Dolohov did when he broke into Hermione's room? He tried again to force himself on her! Hermione fought him off and subdued him enough to deliver herself to the Dark Lord and Dolohov had his pants around his ankles! Because of what _you _did! _You _sold her out to the Dark Lord and he branded her with his mark! Do you have any idea what you've done!" he shouted.

Walburga folded her arms across her chest. "Good."

"_What?!_" Regulus snapped.

"Good," she said again. "The Dark Lord can use her gift in this war against the mudbloods and blood traitors. It's about time society cleaned up the rabble lining the streets and put purebloods back in their rightful positions at the top."

Regulus stared at her, baffled. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, and you would do well to remember your tone. Miss Krum is fine from the sound of things. I don't know why you're so upset."

"Walburga," Orion criticized, his mouth agape. "Have you no regard for the danger she was in? And Cassiopeia? Regulus, is your aunt okay?"

"She's fine now. She broke some ribs when Dolohov attacked her, but she's still at St. Mungo's recovering."

"See," Walburga said. "Everyone is fine."

"She is not _fine_! _You _put her in danger!"

"It's not my fault any of that happened."

"Yes it is! If not for you, she would have been safe in bed last night, instead of fighting off a man trying to rape her!"

"You said she was fine, Regulus. If he did rape her, though, you're breaking off the contract. You deserve better than tainted goods."

A moment of cold, still silence froze the room like a dementor descending down upon the place.

"Walburga!"

Orion's horror-stuck face didn't even phase Walburga. "What? My son will not marry some man's trash."

Regulus raised his wand and pointed it at his mother. "Take that back, mother."

Walburga's cold grey eyes flicked up to his. "Are you threatening me, boy?" she hissed.

"I said: Take. That. Back." He emphasized each word with a step forward.

Walburga rose from the table, holding her own wand out. "You ungrateful whelp. Look at what I've done for this family! With the Dark Lord's rise, we will rise with him, stronger than ever!"

"At what cost?" he asked.

"At _any _cost," she replied. "_Crucio!_"

His reaction time was too slow and her spell hit him. He sank to the ground, writhing.

"Walburga, no!" Orion yelled, pulling his own wand from his pocket.

Breaking her curse, Walburga flicked her wand over and sent a searing slash at Orion that left him staggering backwards into the wall.

Regulus raised his wand, but his vision was blurry and out of focus. His spell missed and Walburga hit him with another cruciatus curse that left him twitching on the ground.

"I thought you would have learned by now, you little brat." A long tongue of flame unfurled from the end of her wand like a whip. She raised it over her head.

_Crack!_

Regulus tensed, anticipating the fiery lick of the whip against his skin; but it didn't come.

"Get back, _you bitch_," growled a voice he recognized. Blinking open his eyes, there before him stood Sirius, wand at the ready.

Walburga brought the whip slashing downward as Sirius dodged and put up a shield charm just in time. He sent a hex that just barely missed her. Orion's set of china went hurtling towards Sirius from behind, shattering against him, leaving a nasty cut on his cheek. He swung wildly with his wand and misfired his spell, which ricocheted off the chandelier and sent it crashing down.

Regulus leapt and rolled aside to avoid it.

Walburga screeched and raised her wand over her head, a vein popping in her forehead; a wild look in her eyes. "I should have finished you off properly the first time. _Avada Keda_-"

"_No!_" Regulus threw himself into her, knocking her into the china cabinet. The glass shattered and her wand snapped as Regulus slashed at it with a severing charm.

Sirius pointed his wand at her and thick cords bound her tightly. "Traitorous filth-"

She seethed like a mad viper as a gag appeared over her mouth.

Both Regulus and Sirius turned to see their father pointing at Walburga with his wand. "Shut your damn mouth, Walburga."

The brothers exchanged glances, still panting, but relieved for the moment. Then Sirius turned back to his mother. "I, Sirius Orion Black, auror for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, am placing you, my bitch of a mother, under arrest. For the attempted murder of myself for the second time. Not to mention all the illegal curses you've inflicted upon your own sons and husband over the last few decades."

Her eyes bulged in anger, but a stunning spell knocked her out.

Sirius turned to Regulus hesitantly, rubbing the back of his head. "So...I guess that's twice you've saved my life."

"I think it's been three times, actually. Although I'm glad you came when you did."

"No kidding. Breakfast still seems like a regular treat around here."

"How come you showed up?"

Sirius smiled wolfishly. "Come on now, Reggie, you didn't think I'd pass up the opportunity for a good, old-fashioned family fight, did you?"

"But how did you know to come when you did?"

Sirius grinned. "Aunt Cass sent Higgy to find me. Told me you were going to confront our mother." He shrugged. "Didn't want to miss the show."

"Sirius." They both turned back to their father who was pointing his wand at Sirius's face.

Alarmed, Sirius made to raise his own wand as his father shot a spell at him. The bleeding wound on Sirius's cheek stitched itself back up, leaving the skin perfectly smooth. Sirius touched it gingerly, breathing a sigh of relief that his father had not just tried to curse him. "Aw man, I was hoping it would leave a scar. The ladies love 'em."

He winked at Regulus who scowled, but thought better about hitting him.

"Sirius…" Orion started, looking between his sons and then back down at his wife's unconscious body, unable to process the whole of what had just happened so quickly.

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that. Safety measure. And sorry about the chandelier and the china cabinet. But I can put it to rights if you just give me a-"

Orion crossed to him and engulfed his eldest son in a hug, holding his head. "Oh, leave it. I always hated those china patterns anyway. I'm just glad to have you back."

Deciding it was safe to do so, Sirius clapped his father on the back after a brief pause. Orion pulled Regulus in too and for the first time in ages, Orion Black held both of his sons in his arms.

* * *

Regulus left Sirius and their father alone to deal with Walburga, but also because he knew that a long conversation between the two was overdue. So he left them to piece together their relationship and stepped out into the street.

He was torn between returning to Hermione, checking on Cassiopeia, and returning to see if there was anything left of Dolohov for him to hurt. Mentally, emotionally, and physically drained, he let his feet carry him down the street, the downpour oddly soothing as the rain soaked him through. Strangers gave him odd looks as they passed under their umbrellas, but Regulus ignored them, too caught up in his own head.

His feet carried him to a door he hadn't realized he was heading towards some time later. He put his hand on the doorknob and the blood seal recognized him and let him in. The entryway was dark and the place held an odd gloom as he moved further in. A soft sound came from upstairs and Regulus drew his wand on instinct. When he realized the sounds were sobs he stowed his wand and hurried up the stairs. The sound was coming from Hermione's room and he hurried forward, pushing open the door. "Hermione, are you-"

But it was not Hermione he saw there, sobbing quietly: it was Higgy. She was rocking back and forth, tugging her ears over her eyes as glistening tears slid down to the tip of her nose.

"Higgy…"

The house elf blinked up at him through shiny, bloodshot eyes. She hurriedly wiped at her eyes and picked up the rag at her side, but Regulus stopped her when she tried to stand.

"It's okay, Higgy. You're okay."

Higgy shook her head from side to side, tugging on her ears again. "No, no, no! I is not being okay. Higgy is a bad elf. A very bad elf."

"Higgy, you're a very good elf."

"No, I is not! I is being too scared to help Miss Krum. Miss Krum, who is so good to Higgy. Miss Krum is so brave and kind and it is all Higgy's fault she was hurt!" The elf burst into squeaky sobs and began to rock back and forth again.

"Why don't you go back and check on Cassiopeia. I'm sure she could use the company."

"Mistress Black sent Higgy home to check on Miss Krum. But she is not here and I is not knowing where she is!"

"Hermione is safe. I promise. I have Kreacher with her now. You don't have to worry." He looked down at the rag in her hands with it's rust-colored stain and realized the elf was sitting just below the bloody spot on the wall. Seeing it made Regulus's stomach roll over. "Higgy, you don't have to clean right now. You've been through a very terrible ordeal."

"But Higgy can't let Mistress Black and Miss Krum come home to this…" She wiped her eyes with her makeshift apron. "I is not wanting them to suffer more."

Regulus felt his throat tighten. "Why don't I give you a hand then? We'll do it together."

Higgy was surprised and tried to argue that it was her responsibility and not his to clean the house, but he began setting things to rights.

Broken glass flew back into the frame of Crookshanks as a kitten with a bow on his head. The kitten shook his head and promptly pounced on the frilly bow after it went flying off.

He helped Higgy remove the bloodstain from the wall, but when it came to the rest of the room, neither of them moved. Regulus wasn't sure how long he stood there, staring down at the leather belt, but an abrupt sound roused him from his tumultuous thoughts.

Higgy squeaked, glancing up at him nervously. The two of them slowly made their way down the stairs. Regulus, recognizing the two surprise visitors, opened the door after assuring Higgy it was alright.

"She's not here," Regulus said to Rab and Evan.

"Where is she?" asked Evan.

"She's safe."

The two wizards glanced at each other. "Can we talk inside?" Evan asked, jerking his head.

Regulus opened the door wider and Higgy hid behind his legs. As Regulus closed the door, he turned to Evan and Rab. "I wasn't expecting to see you back this soon," he said coldly.

"Rab got a little carried away, ramming Dolohov's head into the wall. Cut things short." Evan frowned in displeasure.

"There wasn't much left at that point anyway," Rab scowled, grinding his teeth.

"Dolohov's dead?"

The other two nodded.

"Good."

A solemn silence passed between them.

"Is your aunt okay?" Evan asked, glancing at the scorch marks marring the silvery, fleur de lis wallpaper along the stairs.

"She will be. She's at St. Mungo's recovering now. Dolohov knocked her out and broke two of her ribs. The healers are keeping her another day for observation."

"How come you're here?" Rab asked, receiving a scathing look from Evan.

"Someone has to clean up. They shouldn't have to come home to this."

The two men glanced up at the scorch marks and shattered porcelain on the stairs.

"Mind if we lend a hand?" Evan asked, pulling out his wand and rolling up his sleeves.

They fixed the broken figurines and Rab was able to repair the scorch mark on the wall. Regulus repaired and rearranged the perfume bottles on top of his aunt's dresser while Evan and Rab turned down the bed and replaced the sheets with a fresh set from the linen closet. They both froze when Regulus pushed open the door to Hermione's room.

Rab spotted the leather belt on the ground and swore under his breath, picking it up and pulling it tight and wishing that Dolohov was not already dead so he could choke him with it.

Evan's gaze fell to the blood on the sheets.

There was some small comfort as Regulus stood beside them and not one of them knew what to do. None of them dared step further into the room than they already were.

"It's different when it's someone you love, isn't it?" Regulus whispered.

"You knew he would attack her, didn't you?" Evan turned to him. "That's why you were fighting so hard against your bonds when the Dark Lord told him to go fetch her."

Regulus nodded gravely. "He tried to assault her earlier yesterday, at the party."

"What!?" Evan and Rab's panicked voices echoed throughout the house.

"Why didn't you tell us?!" Rab demanded, outraged.

"I was a little busy caring for Hermione. He cornered her in the bathroom."

"Did Lucius know?"

"He knew," Evan said, darkly. "Didn't you see his face? He paled when he saw Dolohov with his pants around his feet and he couldn't make eye contact with her. Like he was guilty."

"He knew," Regulus confirmed. "I told Narcissa that I had left Dolohov tied up in the bathroom after I caught him. I'm guessing Lucius was sent in to deal with it and Dolohov sweet talked his way out of it. I should have killed him when I had the chance." The words hung heavy in the air as they all wished that they could rewrite time.

"Did he do it?" Evan asked quietly.

"Of course he did! You saw the state of him, with his bloody pants around his ankles! And she used the cruciatus curse on him, Evan. I've never seen her hurt a fly. He did it. And we should have stopped him," Rab finished, balling up his fists.

Evan turned to Regulus. "What did she tell you?"

"She was unconscious, Evan. She didn't tell me anything."

"But what about in the bathroom at the party? What happened exactly?"

"I don't know," Regulus said darkly, through gritted teeth.

"We should bring her to a healer," Rab said, staring at a point on the floor, a sickened expression on his face.

"You know why we can't do that. If they see her mark they'll report her to the ministry and cart her off to Azkaban," Evan said bitterly.

"I don't care. She needs a healer."

"My aunt was a healer. She can see to Hermione once she's back from St. Mungo's."

Evan ran his hand over his face, shaking his head in disgust. "I can't believe he marked her."

Rab scoffed, surprising Evan and Regulus both. The Lestranges were some of the Dark Lord's most devout followers. "Of course he did. He takes what he wants. He doesn't actually care about any of us. He collects us like trophies and then throws us away like we're disposable." Rab threw the belt against the wall where the outline of cleaning product showed where the blood stain had been. Pointing his wand at it, the belt burst into flames and disintegrated into dust. Repairing the carpet with a flick of his wand, Rab turned back to them, fists clenched. "You heard what he said about Dolohov. He doesn't care that Hermione was hurt by him; he only cared that Dolohov _made him wait_. He didn't care about her at all. Trust me, he would have still marked her even if she had been pregnant. Even if she had refused. Because he wants her power as his own. We all know what it feels like to receive his mark. We know what it means. But I never wanted her to have to take it!"

"She accepted it-"

"Bulltshit! As if she had a choice! You think he would have accepted her refusal? She would have been enslaved and tortured in addition to attacked and kidnapped! Who wouldn't want to serve the man who sends a rapist after them?"

"The Dark Lord didn't order Dolohov-"

"Don't pretend he doesn't know what Dolohov does to women, Evan! We all know what Dolohov, Avery, Mulciber and the rest do to women on raids. There's _a reason_ they're always paired together. There's _a reason_ they get the missions to go after muggles. We all _know_, we just pretend otherwise!" Rab whipped his wand and pointed it at the bloody bedsheets, which went up in flame. The too was quickly reduced to fine powdered ash.

Evan made a face, glancing at Regulus, who was less than thrilled that Rab was setting his aunt's possession on fire, but he understood Rab's anger and frustration as it was something he was battling as well. A part of him wanted to burn the room down to the ground.

"I'll buy her a new one. I'll buy her a whole new house if that's what it takes. She shouldn't have to come home to this," Rab cursed, vanishing the dust from sight. "I can't stand being in this room a minute longer," he said, brushing past Evan and Regulus.

They followed him down the stairs and sat in the living room.

Evan was quiet for a time. "You were right not to tell him," he told Regulus. "You were right to try and keep it a secret. If she really can see into the future, the Dark Lord would stop at nothing to get her."

Regulus shook his head. "For all the good it's done. He has her now."

"There's a spell. I guess it's more of a ritual really. It won't remove the mark, but it should contain the dark magic."

Regulus nodded, having already made a mental note to gather the necessary supplies. "I'm aware. She performed it on me. I'll prepare the rit-"

"Wait, what's this about a ritual?"

Evan explained the druid containment ritual and dawning realization came over Rab's face. "Did this ritual involve painting weird symbols?"

"Yes," Evan said, raising an eyebrow at Rab.

He laughed. "Sneaky little witch."

Evan and Regulus frowned at him and he shrugged. "What? I thought it was just something kinky she wanted to try."

Evan and Regulus both scowled in disgust at him, but Rab didn't seem too bothered by the fact she had tricked him to perform the ritual. If anything he seemed impressed. Evan and Regulus rolled their eyes and returned to their conversation about gathering the necessary materials.

"I'll perform it as soon as she's ready," Regulus said solemnly, running both hands through his hair. Exhaustion had finally crept up on him, but the last thing he wanted to do was sleep. "I wish none of this had happened."

Rab and Evan said nothing: they both felt the same way. "Do...do you think she knew what was going to happen?" Evan asked hesitantly.

"Why wouldn't she tell us if she did?" Rab retorted.

"She didn't tell us she had the ability to see into the future."

"Probably to protect herself. To prevent something like this from happening."

"It is real, right? Her ability? Seeing into the future or making prophecies or whatever it is?" They turned to Regulus.

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't." Then he went back to studying the carpet. They gave him odd looks, waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn't. Still, the two men opposite him did not doubt the serious and grave expression on his face.

"Did she know that this would happen?" Evan asked again, looking to Regulus.

He knew Evan was trying to find a way to alleviate the guilt of not having foreseen this himself. Regulus felt the same way, except he had foreseen it and still been unable to prevent it.

"'_The gift of foresight is a double-edged sword, it wounds as often as it protects_,'" Rab recited. The other two blinked in surprise. "Don't give me that. Gibbons used to say it before starting divination all the time."

"You took divination?" Regulus asked, surprised.

Rab made a face. "Of course. All the girls loved divination. Plus it was an easy class." He shrugged. "Even if Hermione did know, nothing is set in stone until it's in the past."

Regulus appreciated the irony considering Hermione had wound up in their lives because of a broken time turner to begin with.

Evan looked back at Regulus. "I want to see her. I want to be sure she's all right. Where is she?"

"She's safe. And I doubt she's ready to see anyone."

Evan narrowed his eyes at Regulus. "You're not the only one who loves her, Black. You don't get to hide her away like your own personal property. She doesn't belong to you."

"She doesn't belong to you either."

"Evan's right, Reg. You can't just keep her from us."

"I'm not. I'm keeping her safe. If she wants to see you she'll contact you."

"Black, be reasonable-"

"She was attacked twice in one day, kidnapped, and tortured. I think I'm allowed to be unreasonable. The last thing she needs is to wake up surrounded by Death Eaters!"

"You're a Death Eater too, Black."

"You don't have to remind me of that. I have the same mark on my arm as you. And now, so does _she_!"

"We're not a threat to her, though. We care about her is all," Evan said, gesturing to include all of them.

"That's _why _we're a threat to her," Rab said numbly. "Because we're a part of the group that hurt her. We're the ones who put her in danger. And because we were there with the Dark Lord, we weren't there to protect her when she needed us. Maybe Reg has a point. Let her recover. If she needs us, she'll send for us."

"All we can do is be there for her when she needs us," Regulus said, repeating what his aunt had told him earlier. "And she will need us." He glanced at Evan, who nodded slowly, solemnly. "But for now, let her rest and give her space and time and whatever else she needs. I'll see to it that my aunt attends to her health. But right now, we just have to wait."


	39. Chapter 39: Waking

**A/N - Trigger Warning:** This chapter contains content that may be disturbing for some readers. Discretion is advised.

* * *

**Chapter 39: Waking**

Narcissa's hand struck her husband across his pale face, hard. Lucius did not even try to block it, accepting the full force of it. Narcissa didn't hold back. She fumed, raising her hand and striking him again. "How could you?" she whispered through gritted teeth. "My aunt is at St. Mungo's and my friend…" she trailed off, too angry to speak. "I told you, Lucius, _I told you_ what he did, but you wouldn't believe me! Instead, you called Hermione a whore and let Dolohov go free!"

"I didn't know what really happened! And neither did you. You weren't there! I did the best with what I knew."

"Don't you dare pretend you don't know what Dolohov does, Lucius. Don't you dare! I read the papers. I'm not a fool."

"It isn't my fault. He lied to me. I assumed I could trust him."

"You're supposed to trust _me_, Lucius! You trusted him over _me_. I am your wife! I am the mother of your son! Does that not count for anything?!"

Lucius grit his teeth and turned his head, conflicted. "Of course it does."

"Then why didn't you stop Dolohov or go with him just to be certain he wouldn't hurt anyone?"

"Narcissa, I didn't know. I swear."

"But you _do _know, Lucius. The Dark Lord sent Dolohov into the home of my aunt and my friend in the middle of the night. Told him to kidnap Hermione and bring her to him. Did you object even once?"

She had angry tears in her eyes and Lucius looked ashamed. "No, but-"

"_-But_," Narcissa cut him off. "_But_ you're used to turning the other cheek, aren't you? Like when he sent you out hunting after the Potters because he wanted to murder Lily Potter's _unborn baby_? Or when he ordered you to kill the Bassmer boy along with his parents, even though the boy was only _three_?"

Lucius clenched his jaw and the color drained from his face.

"What if that had been _our_ son, Lucius? What if instead of Lily Potter it had been me while I was still carrying him? What kind of a man orders his men to kill pregnant women and children?"

"I can't refuse his orders. You know that."

"Yes, you can! Be a man, Lucius! Because he sent Dolohov after my aunt and my friend. My _family_, Lucius. Your friend hurt my family on your Dark Lord's orders! My _blood_, Lucius! My blood is your blood. If you won't stand up for our family, then what will you stand for?"

"I _am _standing up for this family! Everything I do for the Dark Lord is for the benefit of this family. So that our son doesn't have to grow up hiding his greatness from the world. Besides, what do you think would happen if I refused him? I can't let him hurt you. Or our son!"

She saw then just how afraid he truly was of his master. Narcissa had long suspected, but now she saw the wild terror in her husband's eyes. "He is losing this war, Lucius. And he will blame his most loyal supporters for any more failures. I don't want my son to be put at risk because of his father's stubbornness!"

"I can't turn my back now, Narcissa. And he is not losing this war. We are closer than ever. With Miss Krum's gift he'll have an edge against Dumbledore."

"Don't be thick, Lucius! Look at the man himself and all that the Dark Lord has done. Can you honestly tell me that man is trying to create a better world for anyone other than himself?"

"He's building a better world for all of us. And don't forget, I am bound to him." Lucius pulled up his shirt sleeve to show the black skull and snake tattooed there.

Naricissa held up her hand with her sparkling wedding ring, inches away from Lucius's face. "And I am bound to you!"

They argued for most of the night, until his temper got the better of him and he said something that resulted in his wife sending a nasty jinx at his face that locked his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy stormed through the ward at St. Mungo's like a dragon after its prey. Healers and their assistants leapt out of her way as if she might turn on them and unleash the hellfire burning in her eyes. Throwing the doors open with a loud bang she entered, pushing the stroller in front of her, and quickly scanned the beds, crossing to her aunt's bedside.

Cassiopeia set down the newspaper and was nearly crushed under the massive hug Narcissa wrapped her in. Cassiopeia winced slightly, but patted her on the back. "I'm alright dear. You didn't have to come all this way."

"I'm afraid I did," Narcissa said bitterly. "I needed to come here anyway."

Cassiopeia's eyes widened and she glanced at the stroller. "Is Draco ill?"

"No, he's a strong boy. Unlike his father. The rat bastard is tied up in the emergency wing at the moment, I'm afraid."

"Oh no, Narcissa, what happened?"

They locked eyes and Narcissa pursed her lips. "I think you know what happened. We had a disagreement. He took his friend's side and now look at what's happened." She gestured to Cassiopeia in the hospital bed. Narcissa lowered her voice and bent her head next to Cassiopeia so only she could hear. "Have you seen Hermione? I'm worried about her. Lucius said it was Dolohov who broke in."

"It was," Cassiopeia said venomously.

"He's dead, you know. Rabastan and Rosier killed him."

"Did he suffer?"

Narcissa nodded.

"Good," Cassiopeia said vindictively.

"And Hermione?"

"She's safe, to the best of my knowledge. I haven't had a chance to check on her because the healers are insisting I stay all because of some stupid little bump on the head. But I think Regulus has her somewhere safe. Did Lucius tell you what happened?"

Narcissa put up a silencing spell and told her aunt what her husband had relayed to her. By the time the two had barely finished speaking a healer came through the doors, wheeling in a man with three horns growing out of his skull.

Narcissa hugged her aunt, who had always been so kind to her and when she pulled away she wiped her cheeks. "I'm so glad you're alright," she said.

Cassiopeia gave her a wry smile and cupped her cheek. "But are you doing alright, dear? You seem awfully upset."

The tension in Narcissa shifted and she gripped her aunt's hand, blinking away the tears. "I'll be fine. I'm still a Black at heart. We're made of tougher stuff." She managed a thin grin and then picked up Draco as he began to cry.

Cassiopeia surveyed the new mother and thought to herself, not for the first time, that Narcissa was far stronger than most gave her credit for.

* * *

Regulus trudged through the front door of Kraken Cove Cottage like a bear returning to its den for a long winter of hibernation. He was exhausted down to his very core, drained of all feeling as he numbly dropped his cloak to the floor. It was not like Regulus to leave his clothing on the floor where it would wrinkle. He prided himself on always being a proper gentleman of dignity and class. Everything had its place. But now as he moved past the familiar furniture he felt like a man unwound. He molted off his layers like a snake shedding its skin, leaving a trail behind him. A voice tugged at the back of his head to pick his clothes up, put them in their proper place, but he pushed it away. It didn't matter. None of it mattered. It was only the facade. Only she mattered.

When Regulus knocked on the bedroom door where he had left her to rest she didn't even stir. Kreacher hurriedly approached to deliver his report, shutting the door behind him so as not to disturb the sleeping girl in the bed. Regulus nodded and crouched down on one knee, bowing his head.

"I can never thank you enough, Kreacher. You have my sincere thanks."

Kreacher was so flustered he began wringing his fingers. "Would master like a cup of tea?" he asked, as if Regulus hadn't just complimented him in such a profound way.

Regulus gave him a tired half smile and got back to his feet. "I think I'd like to sleep if that's alright. Would it be alright if we spoke later? I don't think I can keep my eyes open much longer."

Kreacher nodded, then hesitated. "Would master prefer a separate bed?" Kreacher asked, but Regulus was already kicking off his shoes and pushing open the door to see Hermione lying in the bed, her head and arm freshly bandaged.

If he had not been past the point of exhaustion he might have considered giving her some space and moving to the other room. Perhaps it was the force of habit after the few months they had been dating, but he stripped down to his undershirt and boxers and crawled in with her, slipping a protective arm around her middle, falling asleep the instant his head touched the pillow.

* * *

Hermione woke up before he did. She woke with a start when Regulus's hand disappeared from her skin after he turned over in his sleep. Her muscles contracted in fear, until she realized where she was and recognized the familiar feel of his frame lying next to hers.

She had just had the most horrible nightmare. Sighing, she pulled up the quilt around them both. The rough feel of the bandage on her arm made her freeze. Slowly, she raised her arm up in the dim grey light from the window and saw her forearm was bound in a beige wrap. Her fingers slid over the surface of the bandage as the memories of it came back to her. Tearing her hand away she gripped the bedcovers and tried not to think about it. Focusing on the touch and feel of the soft quilt and the warmth of Regulus's body beside hers, she held onto those sensations to keep her grounded. _I hear the waves. I smell the salty air. I can feel the warmth of his skin. I feel the sheets beneath me..._

But then it came back. Her body moving on its own accord as Dolohov told her to get onto the bed. The feeling of his hand shoving up her dressing gown...

She tumbled out of the bed, scrambling into the corner, pressing herself against the stone wall and wooden floor, sucking in deep, calming breaths. She couldn't feel her legs.

Once, before OWLs she had had a panic attack and Ron and Harry had taken her up to the hospital wing for a calming draught. It had required a fair bit of coaxing to pull her away from the library, but they had eventually managed to talk her down a bit and get her to agree. Harry had tried to reassure her that it was all going to be okay because she had already read that particular book a month ago and already knew more about dangerous magical creatures than the entire rest of the school. Ron, on the other hand, had told her she needed to eat and given her a piece of chocolate. He had taken to doing that when exams cropped up. He'd bring her a sandwich or a pastry from breakfast to make sure she didn't forget to eat.

But this was nothing like that attack. She did not need a calming draught, she needed a memory charm or a bludger to the back of the head. She needed to forget.

Draco, once, had read to her from one of the old quidditch magazines about why the Comets actually handled a lot better on distance trips when flying compared to the Cleansweeps. He had gone into the technical comparison of their designs, and she had watched him sketch out several of the models to show her the differences these designs caused in their flight patterns and maneuverability against air currents. He had done it one night after she had already woken up screaming twice, handing her a sugar quill to help take her mind off her own thoughts. It had worked too as she sucked on it and watched his hand move across the parchment, lost in the temporary distraction.

But right now she didn't need or want her friends. She wanted the people who knew her best, who had always known how to calm her. She wanted her parents. Her mother would stroke her hair and tie it back in several braids as her father read to them from one of his National Geographic magazine articles about African tribes or a rare bird from the tropics. She wanted her mother's arms wrapped around her as they snuggled up to reread Jane Austen's novels for the umpteenth time. She wanted her father to sit with her and make pretend potions out of 'essence of Peruvian unicorn tears' and 'ground Norweigan bark beetles' that always turned out to be sugar-free hot cocoa and whipped cream. Her whole body seemed to ache in physical longing. She wanted to go back. She wanted to go back to a time when her friends and family could bring her comfort by reading to her or distracting her with food. When she could take refuge under warm blankets in her own bed. But those times were long gone.

Regulus's hand patted around on the bed, searching for Hermione's form, but when he found nothing but air his eyes flicked open. He pushed himself up and saw Hermione on the ground in the corner.

She glanced up at him as he came down to sit next to her. "When I woke up next to you I thought it was all a horrible nightmare. But it wasn't, was it?" She looked up from the bandage on her wrist to the tattoo on Regulus's forearm.

Regulus shook his head.

Slowly, she peeled away the bandage, unwinding it until she was left with the same sight on her scarred flesh. Where once the word "mudblood" had been carved into her arm, now the skin was covered with the ink black skull and snake coming from its maw.

"I'll get the pieces for the druid ritual," Regulus told her quietly.

Staring at the terrifying brand she nodded, not quite believing what she was seeing.

"Hermione… I'm so, so sorry that this happened to you. I never should have-"

"It's not your fault, Regulus," she said quietly, setting her hand down in her lap. She couldn't look at him. "It's not. You tried to warn me about Voldemort. I should have known he would come for me sooner or later." She pushed her hair back from her face and wiped her nose, sniffing. "Is Cassiopeia okay?"

He nodded. "She's at St. Mungo's. Or she was. She might be home now. The healers were able to put her to rights pretty quickly."

Her lip trembled and she nodded. "And are Rab and Evan...are they okay?"

"They're fine," he assured her. "They want to see you when you're ready."

"Okay," she sniffed. "What about Higgy? And Crookshanks?"

"They're both fine too."

She wiped at her eyes with her thumb.

"And I can take you home-"

"No!" she exclaimed, terror draining the little color left in her cheeks. "No, I don't want to go back there!"

Regulus nodded slowly. "Okay. Okay, you don't have to go. But would it be alright with you if I brought Aunt Cassie here? I'd like to have a healer look you over."

"I suppose I can't go to St. Mungo's with this on my arm, can I?" she said, twisting it around.

Regulus winced and shook his head. "No. But you still need medical attention," he urged.

"Can you bring Crookshanks here?" she asked, suddenly, glancing up. It was the first time she had looked at his face and she froze. "...Regulus…" She reached out a hand and smoothed the crease between his brows. He had dark circles under his eyes and he looked haggard and worn beyond his years. His normally smooth face was covered in stubble.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me," he tried to reassure her. She wrapped her arms around him and he sighed in relief as he embraced her, burying his face in her bushy hair.

A thousand unsaid things went into that hug. A thousand things neither could say to make the terrible realities vanish. A thousand comforts and caresses. A thousand tears and kisses to repair torn and broken souls. It was the kind of embrace that only two warriors who have fought through a secret war together could understand truly.

* * *

Later that morning, Kreacher returned with Higgy and Cassiopeia and a thrashing Crookshanks, who evidently had not enjoyed the side-along apparition.

Hermione and Cassiopeia hugged each other tightly, overjoyed to see that the other was alive and well.

The older witch turned to Regulus and frowned. "Walburga is being taken to Azkaban," she said, with a note of suspicion in her voice. "Apparently she tried to kill Sirius. Who was inside number 12 Grimmauld Place." She eyed him carefully and Regulus felt Hermione and Kreacher looking at him with horrified expressions.

"Knew there was something I forgot to mention," he muttered under his breath.

"What?!" Hermione snapped, rounding on him. "What happened?!"

He explained in as little detail as he could get away with, telling them he had confronted his mother about selling out Hermione to the Dark Lord and how that had resulted in a fight.

"I honestly don't know how Sirius found out about it."

"Well don't be daft, dear, I told him what you were about to do. I sent word to him. Figured you might need some back up."

Regulus cracked a hint of a smile. "Clever Aunt Cass. I should have known."

"Yes, well, see what I can do from a hospital bed. Imagine what I could have done in the flesh. Probably would have brought the entire house down on her head."

"I don't doubt it for a moment."

Regulus, Kreacher, and Higgy waited outside while Cassiopeia examined Hermione. The wind whipped the salty air in their silence. Regulus despised waiting. He paced across the cliffs, back and forth across wet grass. Kreacher and Higgy talked in low whispers with one another as Higgy picked flowers.

Cassiopeia stepped out of the front door and Regulus sprinted over to her to hear what she had to say. In a soft, gentle voice she told him that physically Hermione was well recovered, but emotionally and mentally it would take time for her to heal.

He nodded in understanding and was glad to see that she no longer had the bandage on the back of her head when he went inside to check on her.

Hermione wasted no time when it came to containing the dark magic within the mark. She pulled out all the items she had leftover from her beaded bag and Regulus performed the ritual to the letter. When it was over and Regulus was helping collect the gemstones he asked her if there was anything else she needed.

"There is, actually. Regulus... I need to talk to Rab and Evan. Separately. Could you bring them here? Would that be alright?" she asked nervously, fidgeting with her fingers.

He nodded, although a small part of him didn't like it. "Who do you want to speak to first?"

"Evan."

"Do you want me to be here?"

She bit her lip, but shook her head.

* * *

Regulus returned with Evan the following day. He begrudgingly left the two of them alone, as he couldn't put off going to work forever. Surprisingly, Evan thanked him before he left, and he and Hermione headed down to the beach.

As they walked he asked how she was and she told him she was fine. It was hard for her to look at him.

"Hermione...I've been thinking about this...about what happened and I've been trying to think about what I might say to make it better, but I'm coming up with nothing."

"For once your silver tongue seems to have failed you," she joked, trying to smile, but grimacing instead.

"I wish there was something I could do. I'm sorry he marked you. I'm sorry he sent Dolohov. Regulus... he told us Dolohov tried to attack you earlier."

There was a silence in which neither of them spoke. Evan seemed to hope that she might speak and say something, but she remained silent.

"We killed Dolohov. Rab and I."

That stopped her in her tracks. No one had yet told her that piece. "What?"

"After you collapsed. The Dark Lord let us go free and Rab and I finished him off." He smiled proudly at her, but when she didn't return his smile he frowned. "Does that upset you?"

Hermione didn't answer. She felt so many mixed emotions over it and they played out across her face as she looked up at Evan. "I never wanted you to have to kill someone on my behalf."

He nodded grimmly and kissed her forehead. "I would do anything for you, my darling Aphrodite. I'm only sorry I failed to protect you."

"It wasn't your fault," she said quietly, covering his hand with both of hers. "You couldn't have known."

Evan rolled the question around in his mouth for a minute before asking her: "Is it true? Can you see the future?"

Surprised, she raised an eyebrow and managed a half-grin and a shrug. "In a way."

"Can I ask what happens? What happens to me in the future you've seen? Are we together?"

A lump formed in her throat. Evan had been so kind to her. A part of her heart did not want to lose him, but she knew it was unavoidable. She shook her head slowly, sadly. "No. I was never supposed to be a part of your life at all."

"Well that sounds like a terrible future." He studied her carefully and Hermione gripped his hand tightly in hers. "What happens to me? Without you in my life?"

"Evan…"

"Just tell me," he said seriously.

She swallowed and nodded. "In the future that I've seen, the one where Voldemort follows the prophecy and it backfires, killing him, his followers are hunted down by aurors. You refuse to go to Azkaban. There's a fight and..." But she couldn't go on. After spending so much time with Evan it was difficult to see him as the same man who gave his life for Voldemort's cause, even after it was over. She cared for Evan. Her feelings for him were not like what they were for Regulus, but she still cared. He had always been good to her and she had enjoyed much of their time together.

"...I lose?" he guessed, trying to play it off as a joke.

"You die," she choked out.

He swallowed and stared out at the sea, cursing himself for asking.

She stood in front of him and placed a gentle hand on his cheek. "Listen to me, Evan. It doesn't mean that it will come to pass. You don't have to die because you're bound to him."

His green eyes were locked onto the sea and a thin smile tugged at his lip. "Loyalty."

"What?"

"Loyalty," he repeated. "That night we met and danced at Slughorn's party you told me my fatal flaw was loyalty. You knew even then, didn't you?"

A crease appeared between her brows, but she nodded.

He thought for a minute, studying her carefully. "And yet, you still let me court you, knowing it might still end in my death. Why?"

She stared at the buttons on his shirt. "I thought I could make things turn out differently."

He shook his head. "I should have known. You were always trying to see the good in me. I should have known I was a doomed man."

"You're not, Evan. The future can always change. It's our choices that make us who we are, Evan. Our choices are what determines our futures."

"How do you know I am not destined for an early grave?" he teased, although his face had lost much of its humor.

"Because I know, Evan. Regulus should have died too, but he's still here."

Something triggered in his memory and he eyed her warily. "You really saved him from certain death?"

She nodded. "Yes. And I can save you too, if you'll let me."

He smiled and shook his head at her. "Oh, my beloved Hermione. You really never give up on people, do you?"

She kissed him gently on the lips. "Never," she said as she broke away.

"What do I have to do?"

She studied him for a moment. "Give your loyalty to someone who deserves it."

"I don't want to die like my father did. I don't want to die for the Dark Lord," he admitted, grimacing at how weak it made him sound.

"Then go to Dumbledore. You're close to the Dark Lord. You have information that can help this come to an end." He nodded slowly, thinking it over. Hermione held her breath as she watched the debates run around in his head, deliberating.

"Okay. I'll do it."

Relief washed over her and she stood on her toes and kissed him again, wiping back the tears of happiness in her eyes. "I can help you set it up. I'll help you. I promise." She let her hand fall from his cheek, but he caught it, holding it tightly, his expression one of melancholy, giving her pause. "Evan?"

"Was any of it real?" His voice was strained. "Did you care for me at all, or were you just trying to be noble?"

"Evan… of course I care for you. It was all real to me. Every moment of it. But I haven't been completely honest with you."

"I know."

"You do?" she looked at him, startled.

"Of course. But everyone has secrets. I felt you were entitled to yours and you would tell me in your own time when you were ready. Still, some I can guess."

"Like what?" She blushed.

"Well, you certainly haven't spent a lot of time in Bulgaria like you claim. You don't even recognize the names of their national quidditch team players, even though you've hinted that you dated one once. And I will eat my left foot if you actually are a pureblood supremacist. You hate the word 'mudblood' with a passion. You have too many contrary ideals about muggles in our spirited debates."

Hermione smiled, embarrassed. "I must have seemed a fool to think I could have played the part perfectly."

"You played it well enough. I doubt Rab figured it out."

"I do care for you though, Evan. I hope you know that my feelings for you weren't an act."

He smiled warmly at her. "I love you a great deal. So does Rab. And Regulus too. We all love you, you know."

"You wouldn't. Not if you knew the whole truth about me."

"You would be surprised. Love is not so easily persuaded by logic and reason," he teased.

"I'm sorry I haven't been completely honest with you, Evan. I never meant to hurt you."

"Opening one's heart up to love always puts one at risk of heartbreak. But for you, my darling Aphrodite, it was a risk worth taking."

It was a bittersweet end to their relationship, but Evan understood and respected her decision, telling her that she made him feel like a better man, even if they didn't share a future together as a couple. Hermione helped him write a letter to Dumbledore to arrange a meeting for the two of them in secret. With a look of longing Evan brushed back one of her curls and kissed her forehead before ducking his head as a tear slid down his cheek and turning away to march back up the trail to the apparition point. He paused momentarily, peering back at her from atop the crest of the cliff for a moment before turning away. As his golden hair disappeared Hermione wiped away the tears from her own cheeks, clutching her arms to her sides as a grief she had not anticipated settled over her heart.

* * *

When Rab arrived he went straight to Hermione and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her hard. Regulus stood there, positively boiling with barely concealed indignation and jealousy. Hermione kindly smiled at Rab before nodding to Regulus to remind Rab they still had company. Rab gave Regulus an apologetic look. Scowling, Regulus turned and disapparated.

Already feeling tremendously guilty, Hermione squeezed Rab's hand reassuringly as they moved over to some large rocks by the cliffside.

He looked quite shaken to see her; his usual easy, charming smile was a dented grimace and his face seemed paler. He also had a gauntness to his stubbly cheeks, like he had not eaten or slept well recently. "I'm so sorry," he began, taking her hand in his. "For everything that happened. I know it doesn't mean much, but I am so sorry. I never wanted you to get dragged into the Dark Lord's circle. I should have known what would happen, the way Reg started thrashing around on the ground trying to stop Dolohov. You must hate me. I hate me. If I could kill Dolohov again, I would."

"Rab… Don't say such things. I don't hate you. I don't want you to hate yourself."

The furrow in between his brows deepened. "How do you think that feels, being a man and watching someone you thought was a friend hurt the woman you love? To see you dragged from your bed in your nightdress and tortured by the wizard you thought was going to bring about a new, better world. How can I be your husband if I can't protect you? I'm working for the person who put you in danger. _I_ put you in danger because I'm close to bad people. And now you're marked by the Dark Lord, the same as me."

"It's not your fault, Rab. The Dark Lord would have have come for me regardless. You didn't know about my secret."

He was quiet for a minute, shaking his head in his hand as he kept a tight grip on hers in his other one. "I don't blame you for keeping your ability a secret. Prophecies and the gift of foresight are often linked with peril. But did… did you know what was going to happen to you? Did you see it?"

Hermione cringed and pulled her hand away. "No. I'm not all-knowing Rab. It doesn't work like that. The future is a series of constantly changing puzzle pieces. And all I get are glimpses here or there. So no, I didn't know the Dark Lord would send _him _to attack and kidnap me. I didn't know I would end up with this mark either." She twisted her arm to reveal the Dark Mark.

He closed the hand that had held hers and let it fall to his lap, ashamed.

"This is what your Dark Lord did to me, Rab. And you know what his other followers are like. I didn't want to believe the rumors I heard about what really happens on those missions he sends you on. I wanted to believe that you weren't like them." She reached for his hand again and held it in her lap as she sat beside him.

"I'm not," he told her. "I'm not like them, I swear. And I never wanted to be a Death Eater after I found out what it really meant." This was the first time he had admitted it to her. She squeezed his hand encouragingly and he continued. "I knew better than most what they were really like. And at first it seemed thrilling. Spying and fighting each other to toughen up before the recruiters came around. Not that they needed it for me and my brother. We already had a place since my father was one of the first. My brother pursued Bellatrix because he admired her bloodlust. It was something they had in common. I know he used to go out with Avery and McNair in those early days when he first joined. They liked hurting muggles, especially the women. That was when I started to hear things, the real things. But I was in it then and once you're in you can't get out."

"You can get out, Rab. If you want."

He turned to her. "Do you have another ritual for that too? You won't have to trick me this time, I promise, if that's the case."

Her cheeks reddened. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't want to trick you. But I was worried. I didn't want him to force you to do anything you didn't want to do."

He made a flicking gesture with his hand. "Forget it. I'm glad you did it."

There was a moment of silence as Hermione chewed over what he had told her. "Would you defect if you could?"

"In a heartbeat." He didn't even hesitate. "After what they did to you, I would gladly cut off my arm to be free of them. I know it doesn't make up for all the bad I've done, but I would do whatever it took to redeem myself."

"You _are _redeemable, Rab. The Dark Lord corrupts those around him. He makes people do evil things to innocents. He is the _true _evil behind all of this."

"The true evil? Hermione, I killed and tortured people on his orders. I chose to join, even though I knew, at least in part, what it meant to be a Death Eater. I chose to hurt people." Rab looked down at their clasped hands, a sad, bitter frown tugging at his lip. "The Dark Lord doesn't need to corrupt those around him. He didn't put the evil notions in our heads. He didn't turn us into monsters. The thoughts were already there. We were always monsters. He just let us free from our chains." He grimaced and shook his head, pained. "True evil is always in the hearts of men."

"I don't believe that," she said fiercely. "I don't believe that at all. You can choose to be good. It's what you're doing now."

He chuckled darkly. "Still trying to save my soul? You never quit, do you, ma cherie?"

"Never."

That pulled his smile back to his face. "So tell me, with your gift of foresight, what do you see in my future?"

She swallowed nervously. "If you follow the Dark Lord you will end up in Azkaban with Rodolphus and Bellatrix."

"How long?"

"Too long. You don't deserve to be caged up in that horrible place."

"Maybe I do. For all the terrible things I've done. I've killed and hurt people in his name. Maybe I deserve Azkaban. For what I did to Abby alone, I deserve whatever punishment they have in store for me."

"He forced you to kill and hurt people. You already admitted you never wanted to be a part of it. And what happened to Abby was not your fault, Rab."

"It was. I got her pregnant. I put her in danger. I'm the reason she suffered. I'm the one who wiped her memory."

"You loved her. You wanted a life with her. That's not a crime, Rab," she said sympathetically. "Your father was the one who hurt her, not you."

"The women I love seem to get hurt by the people around me. Because of me."

"It's not your fault, Rab. And you can still help be a force for good. You can still make a difference."

"How?" he looked at her miserably.

Hermione bit her lip. She needed to be careful. "I've seen a different future for you, Rab. One where you're a hero who puts a stop to the Dark Lord once and for all." He raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing. "I've seen a cup. Golden with a crest that has a badger in its center. If you bring the cup to Dumbledore he will give you his trust. If you do, you will save countless lives. You will be a hero. And you will put a stop to all of this."

Rab looked uneasy at her knowledge and she was certain he knew exactly what she was talking about. "That's a lot easier said than done. My brother and Bellatrix would never allow it. They would hunt me down and kill me if they ever discovered me."

"They won't discover you, Rab. Make a copy. It will buy enough time for the rest of the pieces to fall into place. I have seen this path, Rab. I know it isn't easy because your brother and sister-in-law are absolutely devoted to the Dark Lord, but if you choose this path it will lead you to the freedom and atonement you seek."

"It would mean betraying my family."

She looked at him sadly. "It would be saving your family. Your father gave his life for the Dark Lord. It doesn't mean you have to."

He sighed and nodded. "I can make it happen. I'll bring you the cup and then we should go to Dumbledore, together."

Hermione nodded, relief flooding through her as she threw her arms around Rab.

He bent his head and kissed her before pulling back. "So tell me, in this future, are you there with me? Are we still together?"

Hermione bit her lip and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Rab. But I'm afraid not. It isn't meant to be."

His hands fell away and he looked down at the ground, swallowing hard. "It's probably for the best. I mean, I get it. After everything that's happened." He kicked the grass with his foot, avoiding eye contact with her.

"Rab, just because it won't work between us, doesn't mean it won't work with someone else. I know you'll find love again. Maybe… maybe go and see Abby. Give her back her memories and help heal from this trauma you experienced. I know it's still an open wound for you."

He shook his head. "No. I can't do that to her. Wiping her memory and putting distance between us was the kindest future I could give her."

She said nothing, letting the silence stretch between them. "Maybe you need a fresh start too. Go abroad, talk with a healer to help you deal with your grief and pain. Take care of yourself. Please, Rab? Promise me?" She kissed his cheek and his smile slid back for a brief moment.

"I promise."

Hermione was not sure she believed him. She cupped his cheek. "Please, Rab. You deserve to have a good life. I want you to know, I still care about you. I want you to be happy. Please try. For me?"

He kissed her forehead. "For you, ma cherie, I would do anything."

* * *

Three days later Rab brought the cup to her. She thanked him and he stood away from her as she pulled the cup out of the heavy leather drawstring bag and set it on the ground. As the cup began to fill with a strange glowing light Hermione brought the fang down hard on it, piercing the cup through the crest. It oozed out a dark red substance that looked horribly like blood. The whole cup began to vibrate and then it was still. She pulled out Regulus's watch and the hand pointed down to her own forearm. Rab watched intensely. When it was over she put the cup back in the leather bag and gave it to Rab.

They traveled together to the backroom of the Hog's Head where Dumbledore and Rab talked at length. She could tell Rab was nervous, but once he handed over the destroyed horcrux the tension in their conversation dissipated and Dumbledore decided to trust Rab's resolve to come over to their side. It wasn't easy though. Rab's brother was a sticking point. Finally, after much negotiating, Rab decided Dumbledore's point that Rodolphus's love of drink would make him a poor ally. So instead he proposed other ways they might keep him safe, which Rab agreed to. He did not mention Bellatrix, and Hermione got the distinct impression he didn't care what happened to her in Voldemort's downfall. Or else she was too loyal to be convinced otherwise.

Like Regulus, Rab and Evan agreed to play double agent for the time being. When Rab left Dumbledore asked her to stay behind.

He surveyed her from across the table with a most peculiar expression in his eye. "You surprise me more each time we speak, Miss Krum. Two new recruits from Voldemort's inner circle. I wonder… what convinced them of the sudden change of heart?"

Hermione shrugged. "People are not always what they seem. I think they both wanted out, but were never given the chance."

Dumbledore nodded, agreeing with the wisdom in her statement. "They are lucky to have someone who loves them so deeply and is willing to put herself in harm's way to help them."

She eyed him warily, but said nothing.

He folded his hands in his lap and tilted his head ever so slightly. "Does the Dark Mark pain you at all?" he asked politely and her lips pressed together in a tight line as his blue eyes gleamed at her.

"No. No, it doesn't."

"Might I see it?"

Hermione hesitated, but a flicker of hope that he might be able to remove it surged through her and she pulled up her sleeve to show him. The black snake seemed to flex over the red scar tissue in the flickering candlelight.

Dumbledore reached across the table and took her hand, turning it ever so slightly as he examined it from various angles. "Ah… A containment spell. This is old magic. Very old magic. From the druids, if I'm not mistaken." Hermione inclined her head. "Druid magic has all but disappeared from these parts, sadly. It had a reputation for being incredibly strong when woven correctly. It's the layering that gives these kinds of spells their strength, you see. If the layering is not harmonious, it can go very wrong." He released her hand and sat back down in his chair, tenting his fingers and placing his elbows on the table.

"Why did you want to see my mark?" Hermione asked suspiciously, pulling her sleeve back down.

"For several reasons, I suppose. The first, of course, is to verify that the rumors I've heard are true and you do bear the Dark Mark. I think you realize that this throws a brick into the potion as it were." She nodded, although she had a few ideas about how to combat that. "Secondly, to see if you also bear the same containment charm that Evan, Regulus, and I suspect Rabastan as well bear upon their arms. Thirdly, it confirms at least in part that the reports I heard from Evan and Sirius that you came face to face with Lord Voldemort and survived." He paused, his expression softening kindly in a way that made her bristle and look away. Dumbledore, based on her reaction, averted his eyes and made no move to say anything more on it. "I am curious, though, when did you acquire the burn? You did not have it when we first met, although I assume it is preferable to the slur that was there before."

Clutching at her wrist, she eyed him warily, but his kind, sympathetic smile was still there.

Tilting his glasses he shrugged apologetically. "Healer's spectacles have a way of revealing secrets, I'm afraid. I have to wear them to keep an eye on my blood sugar these days. I'm not the young man I used to be." With a long finger he slid the half-moon spectacles back into place. "That burn on your arm, did you do it yourself or did someone help you?" She pulled her arm to her side, uncomfortable. "You must forgive me, Miss Krum, it was an accident. I thought it impolite to inquire about it previously, as I'm sure it must be a painful memory for you." Again he smiled kindly and again, Hermione did not.

"No, I had help. I couldn't very well have someone accidentally see through it."

Dumbledore chuckled and leaned back in his seat. "We are all entitled to our secrets, Miss Krum. But you must forgive an old man's curiosity. You see, I find you a very strange addition to the magical community. After Sirius discovered that a new witch had appeared in the midst of his younger brother's company he took it upon himself to find out more about you. I do hope you can forgive his overprotective nature. Sirius and Regulus may have had their differences, but he still cares for his younger brother's well-being and he was not ill-intentioned in wanting to learn more about you."

Hermione nodded her head, knowing where this was going.

"While most of Sirius's old professors would find it hard to believe, Sirius Black, when he desires, will stop at nothing to find answers to his questions. Which is why, as I'm sure you can imagine, he found it most infuriating when his best efforts revealed nothing about the identity or history of the new witch in his brother's life." He paused again, still smiling at her with his bright blue eyes from behind his crooked nose. "He learned all he could about you, Miss Krum. But it appeared that prior to your arrival around this time last year, he could not find a single record of you. He therefore concluded that you were not who you said you were, which made him even more fearful for his brother's wellbeing. He came to me and told me what he had discovered. It made me curious as well, I confess. But after your assistance with the basilisk and your help with the Order, I was inclined to believe that you had your reasons to keep your true identity a secret. Then there was the incident with Euphemia and Fleamont Potter. Sirius was quite convinced you were working against us until he spoke with the Potters. He conveyed to me what you had told him about Lily and James, however, and when it aligned with what I knew of the prophecy, he became even more worried. Lily and James went into hiding and Sirius tried to get back in touch with his brother. You see, your gift of foresight has proven to be invaluable to our success so far. You have provided information that has weakened Voldemort's support significantly. Is it safe to say that this," he paused to pick up the ruined remains of the cup before them, "...is the last horcrux?"

Hermione nodded. "It is."

With a deep sigh, Dumbledore set it back down carefully and set his chin on his folded hands, studying her. "You have proven yourself to be one of our most valuable assets in this fight."

"But you still don't trust me?" Hermione interjected.

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. "On the contrary. I trust you a great deal. You have earned it, wholeheartedly." He smiled at her again. "But, I still do not know you, Miss Krum. You have not told me a true thing about yourself that I can verify, except perhaps that you did genuinely want to take your N.E.W.T.s." His eyes twinkled at her and she smiled a little. "And while I trust you a great deal, Miss Krum, I cannot help but sense that you do not trust me. And in order for our plans going forward to work, I am going to need you to trust me." Hermione nodded slowly, not even attempting to deny that she did not fully trust him. "So, if I may be so bold as to ask, will you tell me a bit about yourself and why it is that you don't trust me."

"Surely you have your theories. Why don't you tell me?"

Dumbledore chuckled, rubbing his crooked nose. "Oh, I have many theories. Each more ridiculous and outlandish than the last, Miss Krum. You could be a secret spy working against me, although I find that doubtful with the destruction of Voldemort's horcruxes. The slur on your arm suggests that you have encountered a dark wizard-"

"-witch, actually."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and nodded, absorbing this information. "And that you are not a pureblood witch."

"Muggleborn."

He did not seem surprised at this revelation. "What is your real name?"

Hermione shook her head: she couldn't reveal that much.

Dumbledore smiled and stroked his long silvery beard, amused. "I see you still aren't going to trust me completely. Why is that? You have come to me seeking my aid and protection, yet you still seem wary of giving me your complete confidence."

Hermione chewed on the inside of her cheek. "I think…" she began slowly, her voice soft. "I think I have good reason not to trust you completely. Did Gellert Grindlewald trust you completely? Did Ariana?" She glanced up at him and was not prepared for what she saw there. She had been expecting him to look abashed or angry or indignant. Instead he had glistening tears in his eyes and his beard trembled as his chin wobbled in shame. But his eyes were not fixed on her, but the portrait behind her of a young girl with dull blonde hair and bright blue eyes that bore down on them. Her portrait was a dingy grey sky and she stood on a dirt path with small white and purple clusters of flowers cropping up on either side of it. A quick glance around the room showed her that it was the only portrait or picture of any kind in the minimally furnished space. Hermione had not given it much thought when she had entered the room. "Is that Ariana? Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-" But she _had _meant to wound him. She still blamed him, in part, for the deaths of her friends and the horrors she had had to face after his death in her own timeline.

Dumbledore quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve, tipping up his half-moon spectacles. "It is quite alright, Miss Krum… I am an old man, and an old man does not get to be my age without regrets. Although I must admit, your knowledge of my own past caught me off guard. Not many are so knowledgeable."

She said nothing, still feeling rather terrible for mentioning his deceased sister.

"It seems you are as knowledgeable about the past as your are the future. An interesting combination. Which gives me even more reason to suspect that my other theory may be more in line with the truth. You see, Miss Krum, at the same time you arrived there was another strange occurrence. One that was kept from the papers, but relayed to me by a contact down in the Department of Mysteries. All the devices in the Time Room shattered and broke, as if an explosion had gone off. The Unspeakables have been unable to enter the room or attempt to repair the magical instruments within."

He surveyed her then and she swallowed at the news. So this was it then. There were no more second chances. Dumbledore regarded her carefully. "Are you from the future?"

Hermione gave a slow nod. There was no point in trying to hide it now. "I can't go back now, can I?" she asked. A small, recklessly foolish part of her heart had been hoping there was a chance she might be able to return. Or try again if she failed this time around.

"No, I'm afraid that appears to be quite impossible."

Her shoulders fell as the bit of hope left her. "In my time, Voldemort is defeated for a while, but because of his horcruxes he's able to return. My friends and I followed your instructions and clues to try and stop him. We weren't successful. They died." She left it at that.

Dumbledore stroked his beard and the two of them were quiet for a time. "I'm sorry for your loss," Dumbledore said sincerely.

Hermione stared down at her hands and said nothing for a time. "We have to get it right this time. He has to be stopped."

"Indeed he does," Dumbledore nodded. "And now that we understand one another a bit better, can you trust me to aid you this time around?"

Hermione swallowed her bitter resentment and her grief. Looking into Dumbledore's solemn face, she nodded.

* * *

That night Hermione sat on the stone where they had destroyed the locket and the diary. The roar of the waves soothed her uneasy mind as she glanced up to see Regulus coming down the path towards her.

He stopped a few feet away from her. Ever since the night she was marked he hadn't known how close she wanted him to be. It felt like a canyon stretching between them.

Hermione felt the distance he put between them and it made her feel more isolated than ever.

"I heard you broke things off with Evan and Rab," Regulus said after a moment of silence. He didn't look at her. Instead he gazed out over the ocean, turning to face it just like she was.

Hermione said nothing as the guilt of having used them and then hurt them crushed her heart.

"Is that why you asked me to come here?" he asked without looking at her. "It's alright if it is. I understand. After everything-"

"That's not why I asked you to come," she said softly, glancing up at him and then back at the ocean when it hurt too much to look into his eyes.

The tension in his shoulders lessened ever so slightly. "Why did you ask me to come?"

"Because I could really use a friend," she admitted, wiping at her eye with her sleeve.

He turned to her, but froze, unsure of how to comfort her. "What's wrong?"

Hermione blinked rapidly, avoiding his gaze as she wrapped her arms tighter around herself. "I spoke with Dumbledore. Apparently, when I came back in time, there was some sort of ripple effect. All the time turners and other devices down in the Time Room of the Department of Mysteries broke. They can't figure out a way to repair them. So this is it. My one shot. No going back this time." She sniffed and swallowed back her sorrow.

Regulus understood though. Because if she couldn't go back again, she couldn't try to find a way to go forward either. She was stuck here, whether she liked it or not. And the whole wizarding world was at stake. There was no avoiding the path fate had put her on. Her wand had chosen her for a reason. She would have to face Voldemort. "Hermione…" Her eyes glistened with fresh tears as she looked up at him. "We'll figure something out. The Unspeakables are always researching and making discoveries. We can find a way to send you back to your own time." His voice cracked ever so slightly as he finished. Saying the words felt like a punch to the gut. He didn't want her to leave. But that was selfish. Entirely and completely selfish. She deserved to have her family and friends and her old life. Here she was, fighting Voldemort again for the second time. Without hope that she might be able to return to her life. Still fighting. Selfless. Brave. Gryffindor through and through.

She wiped another tear from her eye, shaking her head. "You don't understand. Regulus, even if I could go back, I wouldn't want to. I know that it has to be me, here and now, who stops him. And if, by some bloody miracle, I don't die, then my future will be gone. There will be no piece of it that belongs to me. I'm too... damaged. I'm too different. I wouldn't even recognize the me that I am now." She picked up a small stone and scratched at the boulder near her thigh.

"Don't say that. It isn't hopeless and you're not damaged. You're strong. And resilient. And so damn stubborn and strong-willed you're like a force of nature." He slipped his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "I'm still going to bet on you. No matter the odds. So if you want to return, I'll do whatever I can to help you."

She blinked as a hot tear rolled down her cheek and she shook her head again. "Regulus… don't you get it?" She stood up and crossed to him. "Haven't you realized it yet? I don't _want_ to go back. Even if I could. I want to stay here… I want to be with you."

The ocean waves crashed behind him as her words sunk in. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to stay. With him. Because of him. He was speechless.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she waited for him to say something, anything. She had put her heart out on the line and now she was waiting desperately for him to speak, hoping that he felt the same way she did. But Regulus wasn't like her; his face was a mask of collected calm indifference and she couldn't read the thoughts playing through his mind the way he could read her. His brilliant moonlight-colored eyes revealed nothing to her to soothe her agony.

Then in one motion he stepped forward, wrapped her in his arms, and kissed her deeply. It was slow and tender and she sighed in relief when they broke apart.

"I love you," she told him.

"I love you too, Hermione." And then he scooped her up and kissed her again, holding her tightly in his arms. "Merlin, I am so in love with you," he gasped, smiling up at her.

She giggled and returned his kiss. "Does that mean you want to be with me too?"

"Yes," he beamed. "More than I've ever wanted anything." And he kissed her long and deep under the pale light of the starry sky as flashes of lightning flared and cracks of thunder sounded in the distance.


	40. Chapter 40: We the Unwilling

**Chapter 40: We the Unwilling**

It was the middle of the night when Hermione and Regulus awoke together, clutching at their arms. Their marks burned like white hot knives. They both knew what it meant: _he_ was summoning them.

Panic gripped Hermione as she took Regulus's hand, heart pounding in her chest. When he released her it was like her anchor to the world had also disappeared. She was pulled into a void, apparating against her will as Voldemort's summons demanded her presence. When she arrived she was draped in long black Death Eater's robes. Regulus stood by her side, shrouded in the same. A part of her, the part that wanted to be a brave Gryffindor through and through, wished it did not frighten her to see him dressed in the same garb as Dolohov. All around her others appeared: Lucius, Snape, Mulciber, Avery, Nott, Rodolphus, Bellatrix, Rabastan, and Evan. These were the core members of Voldemort's inner circle. They were here for a single purpose.

All of them except for Rab, Evan, and Regulus eyed her warily. Although none seemed surprised to see her.

Voldemort sat in a chair with a high back at the head of the table. Wordlessly, the Death Eaters took their seats around him.

Hermione prepared to take a seat at the end, next to Regulus.

"No, Bellatrix," Voldemort said lazily, as she sat nearest to him on the right. "This evening Krum will sit by my side. I'm sure you understand." His red eyes flashed a warning to her when she looked like she might refuse.

Glaring daggers at Hermione as she rose, she sat instead at Rodolphus's side near the end.

Hermione pretended not to notice, sitting in the right-hand seat. With her wand so near at hand she felt the urge to whip it from her pocket and finish him then and there. Only she knew she would not get far before a killing curse caught her in the back. No, she had to do it right. She had to set the trap and lead him into it.

She stared right ahead at Lucius opposite her, studying his face as he avoided her gaze. He looked ragged and haggard. His sleek white blond hair was tied back in a ribbon, as usual, but it had lost its luster and it looked like it had been several days since he had showered given the build up of oil in his hair. He had shaved, but poorly. Large bags under his eyes made him look similar to his state after Azkaban; when he had been driven near madness at the sight of Harry after the Snatchers had caught them.

She felt Voldemort's red-eyed stare as he watched her closely. "As you know, Miss Krum here claims to have the gift of foresight."

Nott scoffed from the end of the table. When he saw the expressions on the others' faces, however, the incredulous look on his face vanished.

"It does seem like a remarkable stroke of luck, does it not?" Voldemort remarked, reprimanding Nott with a look that made the man sit up straighter.

"It does seem like rather convenient timing, my lord," Snape snarled from the other side of the table.

Hermione felt her lip curl back in dislike at the man, wondering if his dislike of her was genuine or an act to maintain his cover.

"Indeed," Voldemort agreed, twisting his wand between his fingers as he stared at Hermione, red eyes gleaming with suspicious appraisal. "Tell me, Miss Krum, what have you seen ahead for our cause?" He said it loftily, gesturing to the others blindly, but his gaze never left her face.

"You are planning on storming the castle and breaking through the barrier surrounding Hogwarts in the hopes of destroying Dumbledore. But it will not work, even with your full forces."

His eyes narrowed, and his expression soured. "No?"

Hermione raised her chin a bit, summoning her courage and faking a level of confidence she did not feel. "No. It will take your full forces to bring down the Order and the Ministry, but to bring down Dumbeldore a frontal assault will never stand a chance. That is why I will go alone. I will bring you Dumbledore."

There was laughter around the table as Bellatrix, Mulciber, Avery, Nott, and Rodolphus snorted in disbelief. The others, including Lucius, did not. Narcissa must have revealed her secret to Lucius. Or someone else had.

Hermione ignored them, meeting Voldemort's red eyes fearlessly. "I will break into Hogwarts on my own. And I will bring you Dumbledore. That is the test for my loyalty. You don't trust me fully yet, but you will, my lord."

Voldemort raised his brows skeptically. "Trust is something that must be earned, Krum. It is not given freely. Why would I trust you with this task? How do I know you are not leading me into a trap?"

Hermione forced her face to betray nothing, summoning a small smile she did not feel. "Because I have already seen it, my lord. Your mark above the astronomy tower in the night sky. Dumbldore's broken body below, dead."

More laughter, although less than before. The certainty in her voice unnerved Rodolphus who watched his brother uneasily.

"And I am to believe all this on your word alone?"

"No, my lord. I'm going to show you the truth."

This time he narrowed his eyes and she prepared herself for the intrusion into her mind. He did not ask for permission or warn her in any way before he performed the legilimency spell and tore into her thoughts.

But Hermione had been expecting it. Unlike Harry, she had studied hard to master legilimency. First from books, then a few times with Draco, and finally with Regulus. This wasn't at all like any of those times, however. His mind probed hers with vicious talons, shredding past her defenses. As she knew he would. She had not really tried to block him; that was the key to gaining his trust. He had to see it, to _take _the information rather than be shown. So Hermione had piled her meticulously curated wall of memories; small snippets here and there of her own very real experiences: the Death Eaters in their robes and masks attacking in the halls of Hogwarts, broken pieces of stone covering the floor from reverberated spells, flashes of magic exploding, the dark mark high above the astronomy tower, Dumbledore's lifeless body lying at the base of the tower in the grass, his half-moon spectacles cracked on the ground, a trickle of blood falling from the corner of his mouth… All of it had been layered perfectly for him: enough detail to convince him, but not enough to give away the truth behind them.

Voldemort withdrew from her mind, a smug, emboldened smile on his smooth face. "So it's true…" he mused. "You have seen Dumbledore's demise."

She nodded. Hermione felt relieved, but remained perfectly still, holding her chin high as Voldemort glanced around the room, smirking at his Death Eaters who leaned in eagerly to learn what he had seen in her mind.

He leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers. "Tell me, Krum, now that you have my full attention, what is your plan? Tell me what we must do to make your vision and my destiny a reality."

Hermione waved her wand and glimmering shapes rose from the table surface, erecting a perfect miniature magical replica of the castle and the grounds. "Bypassing the shield charms is going to be the most difficult part. There are two points of weakness, however. Here," she pointed to the Shrieking Shack and trailed her finger along the secret passageway to the Whomping Willow. "And here," she pointed this time to the lake.

"Are you suggesting we swim into Hogwarts?" Snape drawled, clearly unconvinced like many of the rest.

Hermione ignored his mocking tone. "Of course not. I expect you to use a bubblehead charm, assuming you're capable of producing a basic sixth's year's charm," Hermione replied, doing her best to keep her voice level. She turned away from Snape's glowering gaze to the plans. "I suggest dividing your full forces up evenly. It will take every bit of strength and cunning we have to take the castle. The Order members will likely be on patrol and the rest will be able to flood the grounds once the fighting has started."

"You really plan on making a frontal assault on the castle? Dumbledore will see us coming from a league away. I thought you had brains, Krum," Snape snarled.

"That isn't what I'm suggesting at all. What I _am _suggesting is that when the time comes, splitting our attack is the best way to break through the remaining Order members once Dumbledore is out of the way."

A number of scoffs went out around the table. "And I suppose Dumbledore is going to issue his unconditional surrender the moment he sees us?"

"No. He'll be dead by then." A hush fell over the rest of them as their skeptical expressions fell away at her leveled calm. Hermione paid it no mind as Voldemort's red eyes burned into her skin as he appraised her plan. "I'll sneak into the grounds alone and infiltrate the castle. Once I have Dumbledore subdued I'll bring him to the top of the tower here," she pointed to the tallest tower on the castle. "And signal with the Dark Mark. That's when Evan, Rabastan, Regulus, and you, Severus," she turned ever so slightly to address him, narrowing her eyes in response to his sour expression, "All four of you will meet me there. With Dumbledore at our mercy that is when the Dark Lord will claim the castle for his own and finish off Albus Dumbledore once and for all. After that the Order members will fall, one by one and there will be no one left to stand against us."

All eyes in the room glanced to the Dark Lord, who surveyed the magical recreation of Hogwarts with an unreadable expression.

"I don't like it," Avery said from across the table, his voice grating in a way that made the hairs on the back of Hermione's neck rise.

"It does put an awful lot of faith on Miss Krum's success," Snape criticized darkly.

"If I fail, then by all means, call off the attack. You would lose nothing. But do not doubt me, Severus. I have foreseen the Dark Lord's victory. I have foreseen Dumbledore's death and his broken corpse at the base of this tower, with the Dark Mark high above it. In the end, the victory will be ours."

A chill ran through the spines of several in the room at the confident finality of her words. They glanced from one to the next and then finally the Dark Lord, who still surveyed the plans before him raised his eyes and smiled at her.

"You have done well, Krum." Then he turned his attention to the rest of the table. They all sat up straighter. "It is time for Dumbledore to realize the true might of our power. Prepare yourselves, my most loyal friends. For tomorrow night we strike." Stabbing his wand at the table Hermione's recreation of Hogwarts went up in violent red flames. The burning castle crumbled in the reflection of Voldemort's hungry eyes until all that remained was the glittering emerald of the dark mark above the ashes.


	41. Chapter 41: A Duel with Destiny

**Chapter 41: A Duel with Destiny**

Hermione stood before the vanishing cabinet in 12 Grimmauld Place. It was tall and ornately carved in an ebony black wood that gleamed in the light of the gas lamps.

Regulus had purchased it from Borgin and Burke's secretly a few weeks back when he had discovered it was the same one Hermione had used in her time. Once he had told Hermione and Dumbledore about the connection, it had been relatively simple to have the second one moved into the headmaster's office for safekeeping. He hadn't realized the importance it would have until this moment.

Hermione was glued in place before the towering black cabinet, lost in her own terrified thoughts and memories of the last time she had entered through it. Regulus stood beside her, quietly contemplating as well. She touched the front of it, gripping the handles tighter than was necessary as she inhaled deeply and opened the doors. There was a layer of dust on the floor of it as if it had not been used for some time. She could still feel the planks beneath her as if she had only just awoken from her paralysis after Draco's spell had broken. After Draco had sacrificed himself for her. After Voldemort had killed him. Just like Ron. Just like Harry. Just like everyone she had ever loved.

Her knees grew weak and she quickly shut the doors, leaning against them for support as she pressed her forehead to the smooth, polished wood. "I don't think I can do this," she said fearfully, tightening her grip on the handles. She had come this far, worked so hard to find and destroy the horcruxes, but now, as they were so close to the end, she felt her resolve start to weaken.

Regulus placed a warm hand on her shoulder. "You can. I know you can. Hermione, this will work." He pulled her into his arms and she pressed her face into his chest. His heart was hammering in fear too.

"It's almost time, isn't it?" Hermione whispered.

Even with her words muffled against his chest Regulus heard her and nodded. "Almost."

She stepped back, peering up into his pale silver eyes and held his cheeks in her hands. "It's going to work. We have a plan. And it will work. Everything will be okay."

His jaw tightened as he gave a nod of the head, but Hermione could tell he was scared too.

"Promise me you'll be alright," he said in little more than a whisper. "No matter what happens, you have to be alright."

A flicker of a smile appeared on her cheeks before vanishing. Hermione leaned up and placed a soft, delicate, fragile kiss on his lips before pulling away. "You're still betting on me, right?" she teased half-heartedly, trying her best to stand tall and summon her courage.

A smile tugged at his lip as he brushed her cheek with his knuckles. "Always," he promised.

The spark in his eyes ignited her courage and before she lost her nerve again she stepped back up to the cabinet and opened the doors wide.

"Hermione, wait."

She turned back as his arms wrapped around her tightly, pulling her in close for a deep, meaningful kiss. And when he pulled back, leaving her slightly breathless and light-headed, she blinked in surprise.

"For luck," he said, rather breathless himself.

Hermione gave him one last lingering look, opened the doors to the vanishing cabinet and stepped inside.

* * *

The lights in Dumbledore's office were out, save for a soft moonlit glow coming from the corner.

Hermione raised her illuminated wand as she stepped out from the cabinet, casting a faint light around the room where it fell on Fawkes with his gorgeous red plumage glowing like an ember in the dark. The darkness had been chosen ahead of time, as a glowing light in the windows of the headmaster's office would be suspicious at this time of night. Still, even knowing this, Hermione couldn't help but feel afraid as chills ran down her spine stepping into the gloom.

Dumbledore was there, standing next to Fawkes, stroking him gently with a knobby finger. He turned when he heard the cabinet door open and shut, smiling pleasantly at Hermione as if she had just popped over for a cup of tea and conversation, not to kidnap him and deliver him into the hands of his enemy. "Ah, Miss Krum. Right on time. I take it all has been arranged as planned?" he asked lightly, rubbing the spot just above Fawkes's beak.

"Everything has been prepared. Voldemort and the others will soon be in position. They await my signal." The fear she was trying so desperately to suppress must have crept into her voice as Dumbledore turned away from Fawkes and smiled fondly at her. "And are the Order ready in case everything doesn't quite go to plan?" Hermione asked, her voice meeker and more nervous than she would have liked.

"All is ready. Now, all that's left is to begin," he said, almost pleasantly. He paused and waved his wand and his robes tore in several places.

"Here," Hermione said, offering him one of the last Nosebleed Nougats she had in her bag.

He accepted it and after asking what it did, he bit into the end and began to bleed from his already crooked nose. "Do I look the part?" Dumbledore asked as he stood before her looking like he had been viciously attacked.

She nodded and he handed her his wand. A rush of warmth shot through her hand as she held it.

"Please try not to make the ropes too tight," he asked kindly, as she raised her own wand and black cords of rope circled around him. "Shall we?"

Hermione raised her wand when she reached the top of the tower and sent green sparks rushing up into the sky like fireworks. The dark mark blossomed overhead, filling the sky above the tower as the wind picked up.

Using Dumbledore's own wand to levitate his bound body, she peered down over the parpets to the grounds below. Dark shadows sped through the night from the Whomping Willow. Hermione counted them and felt her heart pound against her chest. Where there should only have been five shadows, she saw seven dark, cloaked figures rushing forward at unnatural speeds. "There's more of them," she said hurriedly to Dumbledore as they grew closer and closer, circling up high in the sky on brooms around Voldemort who hovered on his own.

He descended down, touching the stone surface as the others followed suit, dismounting their brooms. The red eyes gleamed up at Dumbledore's hovering body before rounding on Hermione. "Excellent work, Krum. You have impressed me greatly. Lord Voldemort rewards those who serve him well."

Hermione nodded, still pointing both wands at Dumbledore, a trickle of sweat running down her neck.

Voldemort wasted no more time on praising her as the rest of the Death Eaters lowered their hoods to watch Voldemort approach Dumbledore.

Hermione scanned the faces there and her heart faltered: Regulus was not among them. Instead, Bellatrix, Lucius, Rab, Evan, Avery, and Severus were there on the rooftop. Rab and Evan glanced at her, as she tried to silently ask the question: _where was Regulus_? Their lips remained tightly sealed, however, and she tore her eyes back to Voldemort.

With a wave, Hermione broke the hover charm and Dumbldore fell hard onto the stone surface, wincing and grunting in pain. Hermione looked to Severus quickly, trying to gauge whether or not he was really on her side, but his dark eyes betrayed nothing.

Bellatrix stepped forward excitedly, her wild eyes flicking between the heap that was Dumbledore and Voldemort.

"How pitiful," Voldemort remarked, pointing his wand at Dumbledore's face. "Look at you now. The once great Albus Dumbledore reduced to this, sad, pathetic husk. And to think there was a time when you were praised as the most powerful wizard of the century."

"Time is the enemy of us all, Tom. And power is a double-edged sword for those that seek it out."

Voldemort's lip curled at the mention of his name. "Still lecturing your precious philosophies, even now?"

"It is never too late to begin a new path, even now, Tom."

Voldemort sneered then shook his head in disgust. "You are ever the fool, Dumbledore. There is only ever one path: the path to power. So many are too afraid to seek it out, but I have come further than any other wizard before me. I have surpassed you and your precious philosophies."

Dumbledore tilted his head to try and see Voldemort better, surveying his red eyes and translucent grey skin. "Yes, you have traded your humanity for power, Tom. That much is certain. But there is still power in this world stronger than that which you possess."

Voldemort laughed, a high, cold, shrill sound that echoed across the empty night air.

Shivers ran down Hermione's spine. She tightened her grip on the wands in her hands.

"Still you preach of love and hope? Look where it has brought you, Dumbledore? Here, at my feet." He raised his wand and his red eyes flared. "This is the end for you, Dumbledore."

"I am not afraid of what lies beyond death, Tom."

Rage sparked in Voldemort's eyes and he grit his teeth in anger. "Then prepare to die."

As he opened his mouth to say the words that would end Dumbledore's life a sharp cry rang out as Fawkes soared down from the sky, wings like rippling flames, aiming for Voldemort, who staggered back to avoid the bird. The sound of rushing wind from someone on a speeding broom broke overhead and smoke bombs filled with Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder exploded around them, clouding the area instantly in a black, blinding fog. At the signal, Hermione, Rab, Evan, and Severus reacted together. Rab stunned Avery as Evan rounded on Lucius and bound him in ropes. Bellatrix raised her wand and fired off a bone breaking spell that barely missed Severus as he sent a stunner at her.

Hermione aimed both wands at Voldemort and two flashes of light burst forth as steel chains shot up from the ground and grabbed his arms, pulling him to his knees as the full body bind took effect, paralyzing him. Hermione's heart hammered against her chest as she quickly undid the ropes binding Dumbledore and handed him back his wand.

Dumbledore pointed it at Voldemort, summoning his wand from his hand. "It's over, Tom." More chains snaked their way around him as the body bind wore off when Hermione handed over the wand. She was not going to let him escape.

Severus and Rab had managed to subdue Bellatrix with a stunning spell and another coil of rope. Avery and Lucius were already slumped against the walls, unconscious.

The invisible figure who had swooped down with the smoke bombs landed lightly on the stone next to Hermione, dismounting from his broom and removing the invisibility cloak.

Hermione felt relief course through her at the sight of Regulus, unharmed.

Pointing his wand at Voldemort Regulus nodded to Dumbledore as the others finished tying up Avery and the rest.

Voldemort, realizing that he had been betrayed, thrashed in an effort to see what had happened. "Traitors!" he hissed as Rab, Evan, and Severus stepped forward, pointing their wands at him. "I'll kill you all for your betrayal."

"You will do no such thing, Tom," Dumbledore said, rising up to his full height. "Your reign of fear and terror is over."

Voldemort laughed again, high and cold in the darkness. "You think you've won, Dumbledore? You're a fool. I cannot be defeated. Strike me down and I will rise again, stronger and more powerful than any wizard who has lived before me."

"No, Tom." Dumbledore's voice was calm and composed as he pointed his wand down at Voldemort. "This is the end for you. Miss Krum, show him."

Hermione reached her hand into the bag and pulled forth the locket, pierced by the fang of the dead basilisk. Voldemort's eyes widened and then narrowed venomously at her. She forced herself not to cower, lifting her chin in defiance as the locket swung before her. And then Voldemort smiled and spiders crawled under her skin as he bared his teeth at her.

"You foolish girl. I'll kill you first."

"They're all gone," she said. "Every last one of them. The locket, the diary, the ring, the cup, and the diadem. They've all been destroyed. Your horcruxes are gone." The strength and steadiness in her voice surprised even herself as she stowed the locket again.

Voldemort's eyes flashed viciously as he rounded on Dumbledore. "You!"

"No, Tom. Not me. It was not I who discovered the basilisk or your horcruxes. It was the witch you see before you. She and Regulus have been working together to hunt them down and destroy the cursed objects you've corrupted with dark magic. Even I did not believe you were capable of such atrocities. I should have known better."

Voldemort seethed under the weight of the chains. "You old fool. You know nothing."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Perhaps you are correct. There are many things in this universe that I do not understand. I still have much to learn. As do you. Splitting your soul goes against the natural order of the cosmos, Tom. So I ask you now, look inside yourself and try to feel remorse for what you have done. It is not too late to walk a new path, Tom. Even now."

Voldemort looked fearfully shaken, but then he smiled thinly up at Dumbledore. "You think you know all. But you're still a fool." Clenching his fists tightly, a wave of force pushed them all back.

Shielding her eyes, Hermione just barely dodged a spell that came at her from one of the several Death Eaters now perched around them. Hermione felt her own mark burning at the summons, but had been able to resist the cursed blood magic. Rab, Evan, Regulus, and apparently Severus had also been able to resist. Thankful that the magic containment charm had worked, she returned curses herself as a fight broke out on top of the tower.

In the chaos Voldemort, wand once again in hand, rose up into the sky and sent a blasting curse down at the tower below. A scream sounded off to Hermione's right as a Death Eater Hermione thought might be Mulciber went flying off the tower from the force of the spell.

Dumbledore was fighting a half dozen Death Eaters on his own. A jet of blue flew from his wand and the four large gargoyles on the wall leapt down and began to attack the Death Eaters. One knocked Alecto Carrow to the ground with a sickening crunch of bone. But Hermione didn't have time to watch the impressive display of magic as Dumbledore twirled with the agility of a much younger man, sending spells and counter curses off with a terrifying resolute calm.

"Regulus, go!" Dumbledore shouted, but Regulus had already kicked off from the rooftop, pulling the invisibility cloak over his head as he and the broom vanished from sight. Hermione saw several spells appear from out of nowhere as Regulus tried to shoot Voldemort out of the sky.

A shadow passed overhead and Hermione saw several more Death Eaters on brooms in hot pursuit. Hermione snatched up Avery's broomstick as Dumbledore sent one of the gargoyles in front a spell that surely would have thrown her off the roof. Hermione's reflexes kicked in and she shot a freezing charm at Amycus Carrow's arm, blasting his wand out of his hand. A quick jab and upward slash had him lying flat on his back as Dumbledore dueled an entire group unto himself. Spells erupted like fireworks, but Dumbledore moved so quickly she could barely comprehend his movements.

Rab and Evan grabbed brooms beside Hermione and quickly kicked off behind her in pursuit of the other Death Eaters. Remembering herself, Hermione quickly followed suit, swallowing her fear as she mounted the broom and kicked off. She leaned a little too far to the right and overcorrected. Kicking herself for not actually taking flying lessons, she followed behind, aiming spells at the Death Eaters to slow them down. Miraculously, she managed not to fall off her broom when three of the Death Eaters ahead of her broke off and began to pursue her.

Rab and Evan fell in beside her, shielding her in a move that she had once seen Harry and the twins use in a match against Hufflepuff in second year. Rab aimed a curse at one of them and sent him spiraling off into the lake with a splash. A jet of green shot over Hermione's shoulder and Evan rolled in midair to avoid it.

Just then Hermione saw seven newcomers on brooms swoop up into the air behind their pursuers. For a moment Hermione's heart froze in her chest as she caught sight of the skinny man with untidy black hair and round glasses speeding on a broom beneath her. But it couldn't be…

The man shot a spell that hit one of the Death Eaters in the back, launching him off his broom.

"Nice one, James!" came a familiar voice from above as Sirius descended from the clouds on his flying motorbike, howling a battle cry as he knocked a startled Death Eater off his broom.

As the Death Eater crashed into the water below Hermione saw tentacles reach up and knock a low-flying Death Eater into the water as well. Cries came from the inky black surface as The Death Eaters frantically swam towards shore as tridents and spears breached the surface and several greenish heads of wild hair appeared too, screeching just like Harry's egg had. The last remaining Death Eater on their tail pulled back in fear, heading instead back towards the Whomping Willow from which he must have come. But the tree was no longer still. It swung out at the approaching Death Eater, its long branches wrapping around him and pulling him off his broom.

"Rab, we can't let him reach the barrier!" Evan yelled over the wind.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Rab grinned in reply.

"Hell yeah. Kitowski Crash?"

Rab nodded and the two of them broke away from Hermione. They shot off after Regulus and Voldemort, spinning around as they caught up behind Voldemort before they both threw themselves into him, bodily knocking Voldemort out of the sky. Panicking as they all fell to the ground together, Hermione soared down and just managed to put down a cushioning charm to take the brunt of their fall. But she was going too fast. She hit the ground and her broom shattering beneath her. She landed hard, rolling against the grass. Blood poured from a cut on her forehead and she blinked her eyes as shapes swam in front of her vision.

The air around her suddenly felt very cold. Shivering, Hermione groaned and tried to push herself up. Then she felt the familiar creeping sensation down the back of her neck. Lifting her head, she saw them gliding out across the lake, spreading a thin layer of ice across its surface as they went: _dementors_. The merfolk dove back down into the murky depths at their approach as several swooped down on the Death Eaters struggling in the lake.

Hermione groaned, spitting out her hair as she tried to get to her feet. She could vaguely hear spells going off somewhere behind her. More Death Eaters and Order members had joined the fray on the ground. Flashes of light burst in the darkness.

The cold grew stronger and her breath fogged before her. Her wand lay in the grass by her hand, miraculously unbroken. She picked it up and tried to stand when the chill caused her wobbly legs to weaken and she fell down once more. Raising her wand, she pointed it out at the lake. "_Expecto… expecto patronum_." A bit of silver mist burst forth then vanished. She had to think of something happy, but her head was pounding and she couldn't think straight. Memories flickered before her like a giant carousel. Getting her letter to Hogwarts. The first time she saw the library full of magical spellbooks. The feeling she had when she danced with Viktor in front of the whole school in her periwinkle blue dress. Destroying the horcruxes. Her first time with Regulus under the stars. Holding Crookshanks in her arms after she thought she would never have a piece of her old life back. Every tender moment and kiss shared with Regulus over the last year. Being so close to the end of this fight. Summoning her hope and courage she centered herself with a steadying breath. "_Expecto patronum!_" she yelled and her otter burst forth from her wand, darting about with purpose as it attacked the dementors drawing closer to her.

Hermione turned at the sound of hooves pounding the earth in time to see centaurs charging from the forest, bows in hand, arrows flying at the hooded creatures. Pushing herself up, Hermione ran for the fight a hundred yards away from her. She sprinted, pulling out the spare wand that had belonged to Greyback, conjuring a protective shield charm as spells ricocheted around her from the dueling ahead. She heard Voldemort's voice as he shouted killing curses at the men he was dueling. Even with three against one, Voldemort had the upper hand.

Slashing her wand, tree roots burst forth from the ground like octopus tentacles, blocking a killing curse from hitting Evan. It exploded and Evan was thrown to the side, but he was back on his feet again as Hermione joined the fray. She sent a freezing charm across the ground and Voldemort slid as Rab sent a boulder flying at him.

Voldemort hovered and dodged it as it crashed into a tree beyond. Voldemort jabbed his wand into the ground and the earth began to break apart as lava rolled out from below.

"Get back!" Hermione yelled, yanking her wand to pull Evan back with a spell as the ground cracked and opened up beneath him.

Regulus performed a quick counterspell, hardening the lava into solid rock that steamed as it was cooled rapidly.

Evan and Rab both shot flaming ropes from their wands. Voldemort turned them into snakes, but Evan was quick to send a killing curse at the creatures.

Regulus slashed his wand and Voldemort only dodged most of it. A red gash appeared across his leg and Voldemort crumpled slightly, staggering as he raised his left hand into the air and clenched it into a fist. Immediately, a dozen Death Eaters appeared around him. Hermione's spell hit Nott in the stomach and he collapsed, shock still frozen on his face as he fell over, stunned.

Hermione recoiled. Voldemort was using his own men as human shields. Two more crumpled to the ground, but the others raised their wands and fired off spells at them.

There was a crack from overhead. House elves dropped from the skies and appeared by their side. Some were armed with cleavers and carving knives from the kitchens and others held things like buckets or cooking pots which they dumped over the Death Eaters' heads, blinding them as their fellow house elves launched themselves at them.

"Fight! Fight for Regulus and Hermione! Defenders of house elves! Fight the Dark Lord! Fight!" Kreacher roared from the shoulders of Maxwell Snyde. One knobby hand held his hair as the other waved a meat mallet in the air before swinging it down on his head, knocking Snyde out cold.

The house elves charged at the ankles of the other Death Eaters as Voldemort retreated towards the gates. Rab sent a wall of fire up, blocking the gate. Regulus attacked as Voldemort turned, barely deflecting the curse. Hermione charged forward, sending a hex at him. Voldemort ducked behind a tree and pointed his wand at Evan as a spell came blasting from behind Hermione as Bellatrix joined the fray. Hermione turned just in time to see the wild-eyed witch raise her wand and point it at her. Hermione's eyes widened as the green jet of light came at her, directly at her chest. Her wand went up, but there was nothing she could do to block it. There was no cover. There was no time to dodge.

And then someone barreled into her, knocking her out of the way, taking the full force of the killing curse in her stead. "No!" Hermione screamed.

Rab's lifeless body lay motionless on the ground beside her.

Bellatrix shot another killing curse at her, but she was blown back from a spell sent by Sirius as he zoomed overhead on the motorbike, sending a barrage of spells at her. A young blonde witch Hermione did not recognize and Minerva McGonagall flew at Bellatrix and the set began to duel. Hermione was torn, uncertain which battle to join. The blonde witch was struck with a killing curse. Her body fell over, dead, and Alastor Moody rose to take her place.

_They'll be alright_, she told herself, tearing herself away as she turned back to the battle with Regulus, Evan, and Voldemort. Snape had joined the fight as well, but he was limping and Regulus was supporting him as blood soaked through his robes. Hermione ran to Evan's side and the two of them sent spell after spell at Voldemort, trying to draw his attention away from the others. But Voldemort kept his eye on the easier prey. Stabbing his wand, he sent a blinding flash of green light at Regulus. Hermione's heart caught in her throat the green light illuminated his face as it connected.

Snape crumpled to the ground at Regulus's feet, having thrown himself in front of his friend.

"No! Sev! Sev, get up!" Regulus shook him and Voldemort raised his wand again, but Evan darted forward and sent a blasting charm at his feet, forcing him back.

Voldemort raised his wand and sent a spell at Evan, knocking his legs out from under him with a sickening crunch and a howl of pain. Evan fell to the ground.

"_Stupefy_!" Hermione shouted, but Voldemort flicked the spell away with ease, sneering at her.

"How many more people are going to have to die for you, _Krum_?"

She didn't respond, but instead sent a full body bind curse at him, as well as another stunner.

Voldemort put up a shield charm and easily repelled them.

None of her spells were getting through. She dodged this way and that, keeping herself light on her toes, acting more on reflexes and instinct thanks to her many duels with Regulus.

A house elf appeared above Voldemort, diving down with a carving fork in hand, sinking it into Voldemort's shoulder. Voldemort howled in pain and a blast of green light hit the elf, who fell down, dead.

Anger surged through Hermione as she advanced, pointing to the ground with both wands. Giant roots burst forth, straight up around Voldemort, cutting off his exit. He hacked and slashed with his wand as the roots curled up around him. Hermione saw Regulus send a wall of blue fire up around roots, forcing Voldemort forward.

Voldemort pointed his wand at Hermione, red eyes filled with loathing and rage.

But Hermione could not back down now, even though she knew what was coming. She had come too far. She was ready to finish this. "Surrender! It's over!" she shouted over the crackle of flames.

"Never!" Voldemort hissed, raising his wand as he prepared to strike.

Hermione was too close to avoid his killing curse. There was no stopping it. And she was fine with that. She was ready to end it once and for all. Even if it meant this was the end for her too. Everything seemed to slow down as they both raised their wands at each other, aiming for the heart, and the words left their lips at the same time.

"_Avada kedavra!_"

Flashes of green flared from their wands and the spells passed by each other like mirror images of glowing comets soaring through the darkness. Hermione watched as her own spell flew straight at Voldemort, the terrifying greenish glow illuminating his face and his wide red eyes. Hermione shut her eyes, ready for the spell she knew would kill her too. She felt pressure on her fingertips and her body becoming weightless. She wondered, briefly, if this was her soul leaving her body. _It's not so bad_, she thought to herself. _If this is dying, it's not so terrible._

Her feet connected with the hard ground. She was not dead. She was still very much alive. Opening her eyes, she peered around, dazed at the sight before her. Regulus's face swam before her as he ran to her from across the grass. The pressure from her hand fell away and she turned to see Kreacher there, breathless. Beyond them both she saw the flicker of blue flames and looked to see Voldemort's body still on the ground, his lifeless, glassy red eyes still open in terror. Dead. Like any mortal man. Dead, once and for all.

Hermione sank to her knees as Regulus reached them both. He wrapped his arms around them, panting. The smell of scorched earth and smoke covered most of his usual scent, but even underneath all that she could still smell his skin. Breathing it in, she hugged them both as tightly as she could. "Is it over?" she finally whispered, not daring to tear herself away from the comforting embrace.

"Almost," he said, pulling her to her feet.

Once the Death Eaters who still remained discovered that their Dark Lord was dead, they scattered, trying to flee. Hermione shot spells, but to little avail. Loud cracks like thunder echoed as the house elves grabbed those that tried to flee.

A loud groan of pain brought her back to her senses. Her hand slipped from Regulus's grip as she ran to the sound, falling to her knees in the grass beside Evan as he grimaced in pain, clutching his leg. "Don't move. I've got you. Stay still, Evan, it will be alright." Her voice was frantic as she tore open his blood-soaked pants and saw the bone protruding from his leg. She waved her wand over him, resetting the bone and healing the skin.

Evan's trembling, bloodied hand touched her face, cupping her cheek. Hermione looked into his watery green eyes as he gasped in relief. "You're okay. I thought...Merlin, I saw the killing curse fly straight at you. But you're alive. Thank Merlin, you're alive!" Tears streamed down his face and his strength left him as he fell back into the grass, sucking in ragged breaths, pinching his eyes closed. "Rab… is he…?"

The air vanished from her lungs and she squeezed Evan's hand in hers as she shook her head, unable to look behind her where his body lay. Tears ran hot down her cheeks.

"No," Evan cried, shaking his head. "No, _Rab!_" He rolled and tried to claw his way up the hill. He tried to stand, to go to him, but his legs buckled under him and Hermione had to catch him. Together they made their way over to Rab's body. Evan sank down next to him, throwing his own body over him and fisting his hands in the grass in anger. "Damn you. _Damn you, Rab_. It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

"It's my fault," Hermione choked, rubbing at her eyes. "I should have killed Voldemort on the top of the tower the moment he arrived."

Evan shook his head hopelessly. "You only would have put yourself in danger. Bellatrix or Avery would have killed you in the blink of an eye. Taking them out first was our only chance. We had to get him alone."

A part of her knew he was right, as it was a point Dumbledore had stressed several times during the initial plan. But in her heart she still felt wretched. He had done all of it to try and protect her. Even after she had broken his heart and ended things, he had thrown himself in front of her to save her. She cradled his head in her hands and kissed his forehead as her tears dropped onto his soft brown hair.

Hermione heard the sounds of footsteps and saw three house elves wearing Hogwarts uniforms approach her cautiously.

The one in front, an older male elf with a long nose and white hair that stuck up in pointed tufts stepped forward and bowed his head. "Miss Krum, we is setting up triage in the Great Hall. Do you need medical attention?"

Hermione shook her head, but asked if they would take Evan, who was still very pale and weak from his massive blood loss.

"What about Rab?" Evan asked faintly.

The two elves behind looked at each other and stepped forward. "We will take him."

Evan seemed reluctant to allow it, but Hermione put a hand on his shoulder and he released Rab helplessly.

As the three elves disapparated with Evan and Rab's body, Hermione turned in search of Regulus and saw him standing over Snape's lifeless form. Quiet tears rolled down his face as he balled his fists up in grief. Hermione took his hand and he flinched, startled for a brief moment, until he realized it was her. Then he buried his face in her hair as she wrapped her arms around him. "I'm so sorry," she whispered against his chest.

Regulus didn't say anything as he clutched her tightly.

The roar of an engine sounded above them as Sirius flew down with his motorbike and landed roughly in the grass not far from them, leaving tire tracks behind him. A haggard-looking Remus Lupin got out of the side car next to him, clutching at the sides for support, grateful to be on the ground once more. He sank to his knees and kissed the grass, sprawling out like a child in warm sheets.

Hermione stepped back just in time as the two brothers sprinted towards each other and embraced in a large bear hug. Sirius grabbed Regulus's face in between his hands and pressed his forehead to his, grimacing. "Shit, Reg, you had me so scared. What were you thinking, going after Voldemort like that?! You could have been killed!"

"I would have if you'd been the one flying."

"Screw you."

"Fuck off."

Sirius grinned through tears and kissed his brother on the head.

As the two embraced once more, Hermione turned to Kreacher and bowed her head to him, sinking as low as her aching body would allow.

Kreacher, astonished at the gesture, backed away, shaking his head. "Miss does not know what she's doing-"

"I am trying to convey how grateful I am, Kreacher. Thank you for saving my life. We would not have been able to defeat Voldemort without your help. I hope you know how thankful I am for you and all the other house elves today. You showed great courage in the face of greater peril. And I can never repay you." Her voice cracked and she sank to her knees, bowing her head as tears burned in her eyes.

"Miss Krum saved master Regulus when Kreacher could not. Miss owes Kreacher nothing."

She smiled at the old elf and they both bent their heads to one another in gracious thanks.

A broom came flying down and its rider dismounted, running over to Lupin and then over to Sirius and Regulus. The familiar messy jet black hair caught Hermione's attention and she smiled in relief as James ran to his friends, uninjured and perfectly well. _At least Harry would have his parents this time around_. A part of her still didn't believe it was over. She felt herself looking back to the smoldering roots caging in Voldemort's body. No one seemed to want to go too near it, herself included.

"Is that her?"

Hermione's ears pricked up at the sound and she turned back to see James Potter pointing at her and talking to Sirius.

He approached her cautiously. "You're Hermione, right?" he asked nervously, running a hand through his messy hair in a very un-Harryish way. She nodded and he threw his arms around her in a crushing hug she had not expected. "Thank you," he said as he pulled away from her. "Sirius told me about what you did for me and my family. I can never, ever, thank you enough. I owe you all the gold in the world for what you did."

Hermione shook her head, holding her arms, still a bit uncomfortable from the unexpected hug. "Really, you don't have to thank me."

"No, he really does," Sirius said, walking up behind them, his thumbs hooked into his pockets, avoiding her eyes. "And I owe you too. For keeping my baby brother safe and warning me about Voldemort coming after Lily and James. And for saving the Potters too. Shit, I guess I owe you more than he does." There was a moment of silence during which Sirius scuffed his boot against the grass and rubbed the back of his head in shame. "Sorry for all the nasty things I said and did when we first met. I'd understand if you still want to curse my family jewels off."

Hermione barely managed a shrug. "I already forgave you a long time ago, Sirius."

"Yeah, but one apology doesn't quite seem like enough. I think I've probably got another thousand or so left before I've sufficiently atoned for being a pretty foul git."

"Spare us both from the embarrassment of your groveling, Sirius. Or I _will _hex your family jewels off."

He cracked a weak half smile at her and turned back to look at Regulus hovering over Snape's body. "I never would have forgiven myself if anything had happened to him. You were right about that," he said in a low voice that wouldn't carry.

"I know."

He looked back at her and held her gaze for a quiet moment before he nodded his head and he and James left to help Regulus carry Snape's body back to the castle. Lupin joined them and they set out across the grounds.

Hermione did not follow them, however. She stopped near the body of the elf who had stabbed Voldemort, kneeling down and carefully closing the large bright eyes of the young female elf before wiping her face on the back of her hand.

Kreacher watched her strangely as she picked up the elf in her arms, cradling her as if she were only sleeping, and turned to carry her back to the castle as well. When she passed by Kreacher he picked up the invisibility cloak and followed in step beside her, glancing curiously out of the corner of his eye.

"What was her name?" Hermione asked in a hoarse voice.

"Milla."

"Did you know her well?"

Kreacher did not answer at first. "Kreacher and Milla have crossed paths, yes. She was a cook for the Leaky Cauldron when Orion was a lad. Always a good, kind elf. She gave Kreacher the recipe for the treacle tart he loved so much. But now Kreacher can't remember if he ever thanked her properly for it."

Hermione said nothing for a time as the two of them walked back through the dark. "She once gave me food when I went down to steal from the kitchens to send food to Sirius. She gave me a big basket of fresh croissants and a jar of raspberry jam. I was in such a hurry, I never caught her name."

Kreacher nodded his head in silence as they passed a group of centaurs glancing at them suspiciously. "Maybe one day Miss will tell Kreacher about her time, if she is willing."

Hermione managed a small smile. "Of course. And maybe one day you will tell me your story as well."

Kreacher bowed his head. "It would be Kreacher's honor."

They entered into the Great Hall and even as Hermione steeled herself she was not prepared for the sight she saw there. Several injured people were being attended to on the west side and a row of bodies lay in a line against the east wall. She could see Rab's body next to Snape's where Evan leaned on a crutch, his head in his hands, sobbing quietly. Hermione walked down the line, passing bodies she recognized: Barty Crouch and his son, Mad-Eye Moody, the blonde witch who had fought Bellatrix, Bellatrix herself, Avery, Mulciber, Selwyn, a bald man in Death Eater robes she did not recognize, a witch with dyed ginger hair from the Order, Amycus Carrow, and others she did not have names for.

She stopped when she came to someone she recognized and her heart stuck in her throat: Lucius Malfoy. His white-blond hair had come out of its signature ribbon and was splayed carelessly around his head. Beside him Lupin, James, and Sirius were grouped around a dirty-blond-haired boy Hermione recognized as a young Peter Pettigrew. He was wearing Death Eater robes and his friends were in a clear state of shock, torn in their grief. Banishing her memories of Pettigrew, she continued to the end of the line where she placed Milla's body besides a witch from the Order with smooth brown hair and a golden band around her wrist. Hermione placed the elf beside her and noticed that several of the elves who were dashing around with bandages, jugs of water, vials of potion, and other items to help those gathered in the Great Hall, glance curiously at her. Several more sets of eyes turned to watch her, murmuring in low voices. Four house elves came up beside her, their ears drooping and their heads bowed in respect for Milla.

There was a crash from behind her and her head whipped around to see what was the matter. Four wizards were attempting to hold down a thrashing centaur as a witch tried to mend several bloody gashes and a severed leg.

"Get off me! Get off me! You should have left to die under the stars. That is our way!"

The witch pointed her wand at him as his hoof nearly missed the head of a ginger wizard. Hermione realized with a jolt that the witch was none other than Cassiopeia. "Stay still or I'll knock you out!" Cassiopeia warned.

But the centaur continued to thrash and Cassiopeia hit him with charm that knocked him unconscious and all of a sudden his limbs went limp.

"Hermione! Get over here! I need a hand!" she called, spotting her.

Hermione's body reacted and she jogged up to the centaur, feeling conflicted about treating him against his will.

"Hold him here and give me some light. He definitely has some internal bleeding," she said, pointing at his torso where a large purple bruise had formed.

Hermione ducked and put his arm over her shoulder to give Cassiopeia a better angle and illuminated her wand. "He might not thank you for saving his life," Hermione said quietly as Cassiopeia passed her wand over the bruise and it began to fade.

"I don't need him to thank me. It's just as noble to live and fight another day as it is to die in battle. But he'll only get that chance if I can get this bleeding under control."

Hermione helped her heal the slashes on his side as Cassiopeia attended to his severed leg.

"Are you Hermione?" one of the men asked and she looked up. Two identical red-haired men stood in front of her, bearing an eerily similar appearance to Fred and George.

Stunned, she blinked several times and nodded her head.

"I'm Gideon," he said, offering a hand before realizing she didn't have one to spare and quickly retracting it. "This is Fabian."

And then something flickered in her brain, several pictures of two young men in the Burrow and another in an old picture of the Order back at Grimmauld Place. Fabian and Gideon Prewett. Killed by Death Eaters in her time. But alive and well now. "Right. You're Molly's brothers, aren't you?"

Fabian and Gideon exchanged pleasantly surprised smiles. "See Gid, she's heard of us."

"You know Molly?" Gideon asked.

"Sort of," Hermione said, casting her eyes evasively back down to her work, cleaning the matted blood off from the centaur's flank.

"Well, I suppose Gid and I owe you. Dumbledore said you tipped him off about the raid the Death Eaters were planning back in February. Saved our skins, that's for sure."

"You should thank Regulus. He's the one who knew the plan. I just passed along the message."

"Still, got to thank the owl too, I suppose," Gideon smiled before he and Fabian turned to go and give their thanks to Regulus.

Hermione watched them as they tapped him on the shoulder and offered their condolences. _At least Ron and Ginny and the rest will have their uncles back_, Hermione thought quietly to herself.

Hermione followed Cassiopeia around from table to table, grateful to be of some assistance and to have something to occupy herself with as witches and wizards lined up amongst their fallen fellows. Hermione pushed the sound of sobs from her mind and focused on healing the injured. She lost sight of whether or not they were Order members or Death Eaters. In the quiet chaos of her mind their faces blurred until they were merely patients. And then when everyone else had been treated, Hermione was left standing there in front of the last patient. She didn't even notice the long wispy white beard.

"Thank you, Miss Krum. It appears to be much better now," Dumbledore said to her kindly.

Her brain was slow to rise from the fog and she stared at him, unblinking. She hadn't even realized she was crying until the tears dripped from her chin. "_Is it better?_" she heard her voice say.

Dumbledore was quiet for a long moment as he appraised her with a weary look. His left eye was swollen and his half-moon spectacles were cracked.

She pointed her wand at his cheek and the swelling slowly vanished, returning the eye to its normal color. Automatically, her hand moved and she repaired his cracked and broken spectacles. She watched the cracks reseal, leaving the lens clear and smooth and whole once more.

Dumbledore raised his hands to them and brought them down to the end of his crooked nose, inspecting them carefully. "Yes, Miss Krum. I should think that it is, in fact, better. You saved countless lives today. Mine included."

His smile felt like a slap to her. "I cost people their lives today. I should have killed him the moment he stepped onto the tower, but I didn't. Everyone who died-" her voice caught in her throat and she choked on the words. "It's my fault," she finally gasped in a raspy voice.

"It is not your fault. You offered Voldemort the opportunity for remorse. It takes great bravery and strength to offer peace instead of violence."

"People gave their lives. Rab, Severus, Moody…"

"And they chose to fight. Knowing all the risks. Let us remember them for their courage and heroism in their choices. They would not want us to blame ourselves."

She opened her mouth to snap at him, but shut it again as his words reverberated in her head. His bright blue eyes gleamed kindly down at her, but in them she saw what he had really meant in his words. Because it was not only she who had stayed her hand that evening. He had as well. And he too felt the weight of his actions and the outcomes that followed just as she did. He understood the repercussions of their act of mercy too. It was his Order members who had given their lives to the cause. And the Death Eaters that now lay dead had once been his students. They had walked these halls and he had been unable to steer them down a different path. Like her, he too bore the burden of the dead. "No. No, they wouldn't want that," she said softly, thinking of Rab. He wouldn't have wanted her to carry such guilt, tainting the memory of him.

Cassiopeia cleared her voice from behind, interrupting them.

Dumbledore smiled kindly at her. "Thank you, Cassiopeia. Is there anything that you need?"

"No, but I've just finished with the last patient in critical condition and most minor injuries have also been taken care of by Hermione here." She offered Hermione a warm smile. When she turned back to Dumbledore, however, her tone was more measured. "I think it might be time to contact families and loved ones. They should know, before the papers tell them."

Dumbledore nodded and he joined Cassiopeia to discuss their communication strategy.

Hermione stood in front of the chair where he had been seated, frozen. She didn't know what to do with herself now that everyone who had needed healing had been treated. Looking in any direction was out of the question, so she stared hard at the seat Dumbledore had vacated.

A familiar hand slid into hers and she willingly followed as Regulus pulled her out of the Great Hall and into a quiet corridor away from everyone else. He held her and she cried, releasing all her pain, grief, guilt, and relief.

Regulus breathed deep and slow, trying his best to be strong for her in this moment when he too was dealing with the same hurt.

Hermione pulled back and wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve before reaching up to cup his face in her hands. "It's alright," she breathed, blinking through her tears. "Regulus, you don't have to hide your pain from me."

He looked down into her big, brown eyes, wet with tears, and saw there how much she meant it. How much she cared. How much she understood him. Because she had been there with him through it all. His resolve crumbled and the mask slipped and fell as he wrapped her in his arms and held her tight, wiping at his own tears as he drew in ragged breaths. "I was so scared. I was so scared I would lose you," he choked out.

"You're never going to lose me, Regulus. I'm right here. I'm here."

They held each other for an age until the rays of dawn broke through the windows and they went back inside to rejoin the rest of the survivors.

* * *

The dead were moved to separate classrooms for families and friends to mourn in private. Regulus and Hermione waited outside the door of the Charms classroom as the sound of heels clicking on the stone floor reached them.

Narcissa's hard, iron gaze looked to the both of them as she climbed the stairs, clutching her son tightly in her arms. And then her lips parted and she asked in a strained voice, "Is he…?" Regulus nodded and Narcissa's lip wobbled as her resolve crumbled and she shook her head in anger. "I told him not to go. _I told him!_ But he wouldn't listen. Salazar save me, he just wouldn't _listen_." Tears ran down her cheeks and she held Draco to her chest as he started to cry. Sniffing, she tilted her head at the door. "Can I…?"

Regulus nodded and reached for the door handle.

Hermione offered to hold Draco by the door as Regulus and Narcissa entered the room. Narcissa's cries could be heard through the closed door as Hermione cradled Draco. "I'm sorry," she whispered to him, over and over. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect your family." She hated herself for being unable to reverse time again. She owed Draco her life, yet even in this time she had failed him.

More footsteps came up the stairs and Hermione saw Evan. While he no longer used the crutch he had bags under his eyes and he held a hand to the wall for support in his battleworn state. When their eyes met he slowed. Then, recognizing the infant in her arms he glanced at the door. "Lucius?"

Hermione nodded as Narcissa's wails of despair pierced through the door.

Evan cringed. "Everyone keeps giving me dirty looks for mourning my friends. Rab, Severus, Lucius… they're all gone. And I can't even mourn them."

"You can still mourn them. And you should. They were still important to you. You have every right to miss them," she told him.

"Tell those vindictive glares downstairs." He shrugged, leaning against the wall, exhausted. A small, sad smile crept onto his face at the sight of her cradling the baby in her arms. It lasted for a brief moment before vanishing to be replaced by a forlorn expression he tried to mask. "At least he'll have an aunt that will always be there for him," Evan offered, though Hermione could still detect a note of bitterness in his voice and she gave him a reproachful look. Evan hung his face, ashamed for using that tone of resentment with the woman who had saved his life. Pushing against the wall, Evan continued up the stairs until he was level with her. He reached out and let Draco grab one of his fingers in his tiny hand. With a wordless sigh, he continued on up the stairs to another classroom where Snape's body lay, leaving Hermione and Draco alone.

Hermione kissed his head, breathing in that sweet baby scent, and promised him that she _would_ always be there for him.


	42. Chapter 42: The Breath Before the Plunge

**Chapter 42: The Breath Before the Plunge**

A week passed and the newspapers were filled with tales of celebration at the death of Lord Voldemort. But it was not a celebration for all. Hermione and Regulus both struggled to deal with the fallout of it all. Every journalist wanted to get their side of the encounter once it was pronounced that it had been Hermione and Regulus who had fought and vanquished Voldemort.

A particularly persistent curly-haired blonde in a hideous yellow suit with shoulder pads and an acid green quill cornered Hermione at the ministry and refused to leave her alone until Hermione threatened to reveal her buggy little secret if she didn't let up.

Still, when the requests didn't stop the two of them sat in with Dumbledore and Evan to give their side of the events, making sure that their friends who had lost their lives fighting against Voldemort were given the credit they deserved as well. Hermione was not going to let the world believe that Rab had died as anything less than a hero. Regulus made sure the same was true for Severus. Hermione and Dumbledore also stressed the importance of the contributions made by the house elves, merfolk, and the centaurs, though some papers did their best to glaze over them.

* * *

A formal memorial service was held for the people who had perished in the battle two weeks later once the dust had settled. The centaurs and merfolk also gathered, along with the house elves, who were given a place of honor near the front for their efforts which saved countless lives.

Dumbledore gave a long and powerful speech about honoring the dead and forgiving each other to repair the bonds of friendship that had been lost. Most of the ceremony was a blur to Hermione as she held Regulus's hand and listened without really hearing. Her gaze drifted amongst the crowd, seeing familiar faces. Narcissa sat next to her sister Andromeda, clutching her hand tightly. Nymphadora made silly faces for Draco as she turned her hair from blue to pink to yellow. Sirius and Orion sat next to Regulus. In front of them, James, Lupin and a very pregnant Lily sat with James's parents. Lily kept fidgeting in her chair, trying to find something comfortable until she decided to hell with it and transfigured the wooden chair into a stuffed recliner. Molly Weasley sat with her boys, clutching baby Ronald to her as the twins crawled under the chairs. Her brothers, Gideon and Fabian sat behind her. Both of them swooped down and brought the twins up on their laps, smiling fondly as Fred and George tried to free themselves. Beside Arthur sat several Weasley cousins Hermione recognized vaguely from Bill and Fleur's wedding. Alice Longbottom, also heavily pregnant with Neville, followed suit after Lily, turning her chair into a recliner and leaning back in it as her husband reached over and rubbed her shoulder soothingly. Hagrid sat in the back, mopping at his eyes with a tablecloth-sized handkerchief. The barman from the Hog's Head was there next to Kingsley Shacklebolt. She recognized others, but there were more faces she didn't recognize in the sea of chairs.

There were few in the crowd with dry eyes. Hermione herself had trouble seeing through her tears, but she was determined to look, as if she might have missed Rab sitting in the back row, or Severus frowning off to the side, or Moody standing near Kingsley. A tiny part of her brain even looked for Ron and Harry; her Ron and Harry. But they weren't there, of course. It was just her memory playing tricks on her, for this setting was so very similar to Dumbledore's funeral that she half expected them to be sitting beside her.

She squeezed Regulus's hand in hers when Dumbledore mentioned Rab. He had no family there to mourn him. His brother was in Azkaban, along with the other Death Eaters, who were now being guarded by wizards and goblins for the time being as the dementors had been banished from the prison after supporting Voldemort in the battle.

The papers had called it a miracle; rounding up all the Death Eaters with not one escape. At Dumbledore's insistence, the house elves were praised and honored by the ministry for accomplishing such a feat. It wasn't much, but it was a step in the right direction that lifted Hermione's spirits a bit.

There were days and weeks afterward, though, when nothing could raise Hermione's spirits. She stayed in bed at the cottage, waiting for the other shoe to drop. There would be a mass breakout from Azkaban or somehow Voldemort would rise from his grave and come after her. It took her a long time to convince herself it really was over.

Now that the fighting was done, she didn't quite know what to do with herself. Regulus and Cassiopeia convinced her to go back to work and she did, especially now that her law firm was working with other community partners to establish H.E.L.M.: the House Elf Liberation Movement. Kreacher was spearheading the movement quite successfully. But even H.E.L.M. did not rile her spirits the way it would have in another life.

So she waited, watching for a sign.

Harry James Potter was born happy and healthy to James and Lily Potter on July 31st.

Sirius invited them to come along to the name day celebration, where he cried when he held Harry until Lupin took him. It wasn't until Hermione held Harry in her arms, brushing aside his soft black hair to reveal the smooth, unscarred forehead that she felt a bit of closure beginning in her heart.

* * *

Regulus struggled to deal with the attention he suddenly got everywhere he went, as strangers came up to him and Hermione, wanting to shake their hands. One wizard had even tried to hug him in the middle of the street. But perhaps the most difficult change of all was how different his relationship with Hermione had become. He knew that she felt guilty over Rab's death and the deaths of all the others. Nothing he could say seemed to assuage her feelings of guilt. And he was dealing with his own guilt regarding Severus's death too.

If there was one silver lining in this tragedy, he was glad to have Sirius back in his life. He had missed having someone to talk to. Sirius, despite his animosity towards Severus at school, never said a bad word about him after he died protecting his brother. Sirius reassured him that Hermione's aloofness was due to her grief and not because she didn't care about him. And once August rolled around, Regulus realized it was true.

On Harry's name day something seemed to shift and she came back to him, little by little. She never stepped foot in Cassiopeia's home ever again, but she did have dinner with her and Higgy at their ever-expanding dinner parties at Grimmauld Place. His father seemed much more cheerful than he had ever seen him as the family dinners grew larger with the return of the family members like Andromeda and Narcissa in addition to Sirius. He even hired a magical artist to restore the tapestry.

Hermione often watched rather than participated in the conversations, a contented smile on her face.

After a long night alone at Kraken Cove Cottage, Hermione asked Regulus if he would move in with her. His father was not pleased at the idea at first, but he came around and accepted it after a talk with Cassiopeia.

Regulus held her close at night, soothing her after a rough nightmare. Living together was good for him too. He hadn't slept well since the day he was dragged into the water by the inferi, but lying next to her made him feel at peace. The purring ginger cat in between them didn't hurt either.

And every night, little by little, his dark mark began to fade. Soon it was just another faded scar.

* * *

Death Eater trials were postponed until Azkaban was under the control of goblins and wizards. The dementors were removed and new security measures were put in place to keep the prisoners. Once the operations were running smoothly, however, the trials began. Many Death Eaters like Amycus Carrow and Rodolphus Lestrange were sent to Azkaban given the level of their crimes. A few of the more wealthy families were able to buy their freedom and only had to pay restitution. Nott was one such Death Eater who walked away with his freedom. Others, like Karkaroff, traded information for reduced time on their sentences. Evan was charged with several crimes and plead guilty, but was lucky enough to have his sentence reduced for his service in fighting against Voldemort and was let off with a large fine instead.

The ministry did not hold back, rooting out spies and conspirators right and left. Even Narcissa was called forward and charged with covering up several of her husband's crimes, to which she proclaimed to only have done out of fear. Hermione wondered how true the statement was, but believed her enough that she did not question Narcissa even after she was released and the charges against her were dropped. Narcissa did have to pay restitution for damages to the school on behalf of her husband, however. She did not complain when the ruling was made. She had already changed her name back to Black instead of Malfoy to try and disassociate herself from her husband's crimes. Although Hermione could tell that she still mourned for Lucius, she understood that the Black family name offered a kind of protection after Regulus and Sirius had fought on the winning side. Her adept ability to hide her emotions made it difficult for even Hermione to tell how she was coping with the loss of her sister, Bellatrix, and her husband. Narcissa, ever the pillar of strength, walked through the streets with her head held high, arm in arm with Andromeda, silencing whispers with a look.

Hermione and Regulus were both called to stand trial and were exonerated of their crimes when Dumbledore and others, like Sirius, spoke on their behalf, explaining how vital their information was to preventing several heinous crimes. Hermione had been absolutely terrified sitting in the chair in the center of the room for all to judge her. Terrified that after all she had sacrificed to make the magical world better, she would be removed from it. Dumbledore told her not to worry, but by now worrying was second nature to her. In hindsight, she shouldn't have gotten so worked up over it, considering she did finish off Voldemort and the whole wizarding world knew that. Her minor criminal charges were dropped without contest.

Regulus was exonerated of his crimes as well, but he did not seem relieved in the slightest when the Wizengamot cleared him and did not issue any fines.

After the ruling and his disappearance afterwards, Hermione found him later in the field where he liked to fly, tearing apart blades of grass between his fingers.

"They shouldn't have cleared me," he told her when she sat next to him. "I killed people. And they turned the other cheek because I killed the 'right' people."

Hermione knew what he meant. Even if Voldemort was a terrible human being, he was still a person. And killing him, even though she knew it was what had to be done, still did not sit right with her morally. She believed in justice and a fair trial. But justice was only something that worked with a just system. She had tried to give Voldemort the option to submit, to feel remorse for his actions, but in her heart she had known it was never going to work. Men like Voldemort ruled in tyranny, spreading fear and feeding corruption until all sense of right and wrong dissolved away. Now the chaos of Voldemort's reign was over. But she knew enough from her time at school with Umbridge and working for her firm to know that a just system was something that one had to fight for in order to have justice of any kind.

She offered her hand to him and asked something she never thought she would ask anyone. "Will you take me flying?"

That had stunned him, but he eagerly accepted.

Soaring amidst the clouds, Hermione felt the tension leave her body with her arms wrapped around him. Peeking her head out from over his shoulder, she gasped at the expanse of glimmering gold and streaks of pink and orange as the sun set beyond the cream-colored clouds.

Regulus smiled his private smile at her wonder and astonishment. "Do you see what I mean about the freedom of flying? You have to leave everything else behind you when you leave the ground. Otherwise it weighs you down," he smirked, raising his chin as the wind blew back his hair.

"Do you feel better?" she asked cheekily, kissing the back of his neck.

He cracked a smile and shook his head at his sneaky witch who knew him so well. It _was _making him feel better, being up in the clouds with her arms wrapped around him, snuggled up as close as she could get to him. A part of him wished he could stay up in the clouds with her forever.

The healing process for the two of them took a good deal longer than it did for the rest of the world. Adjusting to being a household name was not easy and dealing with the aftermath of Voldemort's demise was messy to say the least. Hermione and Regulus used the attention to refocus on key issues that helped build civil rights for magical creatures like house elves and centaurs that extended even further. Magical stewardship expanded and legislation passed giving groups like H.E.L.M. representation on the Wizengamot a few years later. Together, they continued to build a better world from the ashes of the old one.

They weren't the only ones to rebuild. Narcissa gave a hefty portion of the Malfoy fortune to Hogwarts to help rebuild and she even went above and beyond to show her dedication to righting the wrongs of her past by opening a magical day school for young children. She worked closely with Hermione and Regulus to win over the educational board and garner Dumbledore's support to allow muggleborn children to attend the school as well, in the hopes that introducing muggleborns to wizarding culture and magical education at an early age would help ease tensions and build positive, healthy relationships between the younger generations. With the support of Hogwarts faculty, staff, and the headmaster, a new day school was created in London.

Hogwarts changed as well. After a difficult campaign with the board, Regulus and Sirius were able to convince them that it was time to dissolve the school's house system. They were met with a fair bit of resistance, but Dumbledore took the brunt of it and agreed that it was high time students be given the right to live in harmony as one whole student body. They argued successfully that the divisions between the rest of the houses and Slytherin house caused many to join Voldemort's ranks because they had nowhere else to turn or believed it was their only option.

Regulus was proud to see James, Remus, and even his father stand with them in support of the motion, but it was his brother's support that meant the most to him. Finally, after years of fighting each other, they were fighting together. Regulus got his brother back and Orion got his sons back. Mending the broken bonds was not easy for the men of the Black family, but their stubbornness paid off in the end because they never gave up on each other.

* * *

Regulus and Sirius spent more time together as the wizarding world slowly went back to normal, often racing each other up in the sky. After an adrenaline-fueled race that left them both exhausted, Regulus sank into the grass with his brother and stared at the dark night sky and the glimmering stars above. "There you are, dog-breath," Regulus smirked, pointing to the brightest star in the sky.

"Yeah, you're still up there too, little prince," Sirius joked, using his childhood insult and elbowing him hard in the ribs.

"I'm taller than you are, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, but I'm still the better looking one."

Regulus rolled his eyes at him.

"So when are you going to pop the question?" Sirius asked casually.

"What?"

"Hermione. When are you going to pop the question? Start popping out little heirs to continue on the Black family legacy?" Sirius waggled his eyebrows.

Regulus rolled his eyes, kicking at him and making his brother wince. "Shove off. You know all you have to do is ask and our father would reinstate you as the heir, right? Then you can get married and have a whole pack of puppies to continue on _the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black_," Regulus smirked.

"Nah, I like the freedom too much. Plus father is afraid I'll piss away the family fortune on cigarettes and booze."

"And flying motorcycles."

Sirius snorted and put his hands behind his head. "Yeah, that too. But really, are you telling me you don't want to marry her? After everything that's happened, I mean, I assumed you would. You even live together," he mused, flashing a teasing grin that made Regulus aim another kick at him.

He missed, but shrugged and sighed. "I don't know. We love each other, but I don't want to force her into something she's not ready for. We're happy where we're at and so for now...I'm fine letting things be as they are. Maybe someday that will change. And if it does and by some miracle she says yes, would you be my best man?"

Sirius blinked in surprise, turning his head to study his brother, making sure it wasn't a joke. "Really? Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Sirius ran a hand through his hair and when he spoke his voice had a noticeable strain. "Don't you think Hermione might not want to see me standing up there? I think there's still a part of her that wants to hex off my family jewels."

"Everyone who talks to you feels that way. Besides, I'm sure I could talk her round," Regulus joked, snorting at how much Sirius was fretting. "Really, Sirius. You would do it, wouldn't you?"

Sirius shook out his long black hair and took a deep breath, puffing out his chest to make himself feel a bit braver than he actually felt. "Yeah, of course. Are you going to tell father the truth though? About her real blood status?"

Regulus gave his brother a patronizing look. "Not a chance. He might be more open-minded about some things, but he's not going to let me marry her if she's not a pureblood. Hermione needs to still keep her cover anyway."

Sirius smiled smugly.

"What?"

"Oh nothing. Just imagining dear old mum rolling over in her grave if she knew. Plus, it's just nice to see my baby brother being a rebel."

"I'm more of a rebel than you ever were."

"Yeah? Put your money where your mouth is, Reg." He hopped up from the grass and stood over his brother, grinning doggedly down at him. "You take the bike this round and we'll see who wins."

"You're on." Regulus leapt to his feet, sprinting towards the motorbike.

"You better not get a scratch on her!" Sirius shouted after him as he grabbed the firebolt and took off after him.

* * *

When the time was right, Regulus felt it in his bones. It took all his willpower not to keep checking to make sure the box was in his pocket as they flew through the cold air. But Hermione hardly noticed when he did, enraptured as she was with the glittering curtains of greenish light tinged with pink in the night sky. The aurora borealis above them swayed and rippled as if dancing to a melody they could not hear. It was freezing above the glacier, but Hermione seemed to have forgotten about the cold in her enchanted coat and the dazzling spectacle of light before her. She rested her head on Regulus's shoulder as they drifted through the sky. They were like a leaf drifting along in the current of the colorful river above. Until Regulus leaned to the side and began to drift down to a soft peak with a clear view of the sky.

The wind whipped the light dusting of snow around their feet as they touched down. A shiver ran through Hermione and she nestled into Regulus who wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head as they gazed up in wonder and awe at the display of lights above.

"It's beautiful," Hermione said softly, lost in the magic of it.

He smiled privately thinking that it was nothing compared to how radiant she was in his eyes. "I thought you'd like it." He squeezed her tighter and she made a happy, contented sigh as he held her.

"Thank you for bringing me here. I needed a break after this last week."

"Hey, you won the case. I think that's cause to celebrate a little."

Hermione silently agreed with him. "The goblins sure put up a fight."

"Oh, they never stood a chance. Not against you." He kissed the top of her head, catching a whiff of lavender that made him smile at its familiarity. "I'm still betting on you."

Hermione chuckled. "Even after all this time?"

"Always."

She turned and snaked her arms around his neck as they shared a sweet and tender kiss. "So why here, of all places? I thought you would have wanted to go somewhere tropical like we did last summer after you accepted your father's seat on the Wizengamot? I rather liked exploring the jungle with you."

"Even after you got horribly sunburned? I seem to recall slathering an entire bottle of that dittany lotion over you after that first day."

"I seem to recall using at least half the bottle on you," she reminded him.

"That doesn't sound like me at all," he said, playing it off coolly until her smug pout made him crack a smile. "Oh, alright. You win. I can't help being pale. We live in a country where it rains all the time."

"Tonight we probably don't have to worry about sunburns."

"No. But that's not why I wanted to bring you here. You see, this island has officially been declared protected ground for magical creatures. Very recently, in fact. It's not inhabited by any people, but it will soon have a new occupant."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "Who?" For a terrible moment she thought he was going to say he was packing up the cottage and moving out to live on the glacier.

"A certain Arctic Whitefang dragon who has recently been released from its terrible underground prison and is looking for a nice island to retire on."

Hermione spun back around, gazing at the beautiful valley and rugged terrain of the crystal blue glaciers and black mountain peaks.

"What do you think?" he grinned seeing her face light up.

When she turned back around she was blinking back tears of joy. "It's perfect," she told him, kissing him and hugging him tightly. "You really are amazing, Regulus. Really, truly amazing."

He grinned and shook his head. "Not compared to you. You make the whole world around you better. You made me a better man."

She cupped his cheek and gazed deeply into his silver eyes, her expression fierce. "You have always been a good man, Regulus."

Looking into her eyes, he believed her. He traced her chin with his thumb before kissing her again. "You are the light of my life, Hermione. I have something I want to give you." Swallowing his fear, he pulled the wooden box out of his pocket and opened it, revealing a velvet-lined cushion that held a golden band with a large diamond in the center surrounded by smaller diamonds around that.

Hermione's eyes grew wide and she covered her mouth with her hands as she looked from Regulus to the ring and back again.

"It was made by my great-great grandfather. He made it for my great-great grandmother because she was the light in his life and he wanted to make certain that she would never forget how important she was to him. Hermione, _you _have been the light in the darkest time of my life, and you shine even brighter now that the darkness has passed. You make me better. You believe in me. And you believed in me when no one else did. Not even myself. You are the strongest, bravest, most brilliant woman I have ever met and I cannot imagine my life without you in it. Will you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage?"

Hermione was frozen in shock at first, but by the time he finished and bent down on one knee she could hardly contain her enthusiasm and excitement, launching herself at him and hugging him and kissing him with all her might. "Yes!" she said, pulling back, tears of happiness glistening in her lashes. "Yes, Regulus, yes! A thousand times yes!" She threw her arms around his neck as relief and elation washed over him.

He carefully slid the ring onto her finger and tapped the center stone with his wand. The other diamonds began to glow and stars appeared all around them, encapsulating them in the different constellations. Regulus touched one and the constellation lit up. He nodded his head, prompting Hermione to give it a try and she extended a delicate finger and touched a star in his constellation, sending lines of light connecting the stars together.

He touched her cheek and knelt down to kiss her and she rose to meet him. Her lips met his under the dazzling green and pink curtains of shimmering light in the night sky. She could not imagine a more perfect place or moment than this.


	43. Chapter 43: Epilogue

**Chapter 43: Epilogue**

It was a lovely spring day full of hustle and bustle inside Ambilly's Apiary. The room was alive with bird song and the energetic buzz of excited children. A bright black and gold striped sign advertised a special showing of a hippogriff later that afternoon. The students of Draconis Day School for Magical Youth swarmed around the turnstiles, pushing through, eager to explore and get into all kinds of mischief. A half dozen adults tried to corral them, though to little avail as the children dashed off in different directions excitedly.

Hermione first noticed them with her omnioculars from up above on a large platform, her well-worn magical bird guide in hand with several torn scraps of parchment poking out from various pages. She tugged on her husband's shoulder and Regulus turned to see where she was pointing.

Raising his omnioculars to his eyes, he peered down and a private smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Shall we go say hello?" he suggested, already heading towards the stairs.

"Wait!" Hermione hissed in a soft voice.

"Wait for what?"

"It isn't safe! If she's down there-"

"Oh, come on. If the universe was going to implode, it would have already done so. Clearly the universe is doing just fine with two Hermiones in the same place. It's probably all the better for it, I'd wager," he said, kissing the back of her hand and nodding his head to the stairs.

She followed, feeling uneasy with every step closer. Hermione watched from a distance as a group of nine-year-olds crowded in front of a spot on the path where a bird with a bright orange beak was swearing up a storm. From the corner of her eye Hermione spotted Fred and George in front sniggering as one of the chaperones marched up to them and began to scold them both. Cho Chang was giggling and pointing at one of the glittering blue birds in a large flowery bush with orange blossoms.

Their class roamed ahead as the next came forward, led by a man with untidy black hair. "Come on now, stop messing around or I'll feed you to the hippogriff, Mr. Boot. And don't think I don't see you back there Finnigan!"

Hermione watched as a young Harry and Ron wandered towards the swearing toucan, laughing like mad when it started cursing. Anthony Goldstein, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Seamus Finnigan came up behind them to get a better look, laughing hysterically when James flapped his arms to try and scare away the bird.

Regulus tugged her arm and pointed to a corner behind a hedge where three students were standing and pointing to the different birds in wonder.

"What's that one there?" Dean Thomas asked, leaning over the railing to point at an orange bird.

"A Flaming House Finch. They're known to decorate their nests with magical flowers in the spring," an enthusiastic voice chimed from beside him. A head of bushy brown hair leaned forward to scribble something in her notebook.

"Hermione, look, over there! That's a hummingbird, right?"

The young girl peered up and gasped. "A Ruby-speckled Hummingbird! Good eye, Draco. They're extremely fast. It's almost impossible to spot them in the wild."

The blond boy leaned against the post, smiling smugly.

"You'll make a good seeker with those sharp eyes of yours, Draco," Regulus praised, drawing the boy's attention.

The other two turned around as well, surprised to see another adult there.

Draco crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Oh, hey Uncle Reggie. And no thanks. I'd rather be a chaser like my father." Regulus shrugged, smiling at Draco who raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. "Why are you here? Did mum ask you to chaperone?"

"No, just happened to be here with your aunt."

Draco's silver eyes lit up and he glanced behind Regulus. "Aunt Hermione is here too?"

The bushy-haired girl turned in surprise. "_Aunt_ Hermione?"

"Yeah, you know, I'm sure I've mentioned it before."

"The one who shares my name? The…" she paused, looking around excitedly, bobbing on her tiptoes. "The one who vanquished He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

Draco nodded as Regulus turned his head, but Hermione was nowhere to be seen. "I guess she wandered off. I better go find her. Stay out of trouble, Draco," Regulus said with a wink that made Draco's cheeks burn scarlet.

He quickly checked to see that the brunette beside him hadn't seen before glaring at his uncle and turning back with Dean as James called them over to rejoin the rest of their class.

The younger Hermione kept glancing around, hoping to get a look at the famous witch she shared a name with. Her shoulders fell, dejected, and she turned back to follow James and the rest of the group to the next area.

Regulus sighed and turned back to face the tree beside him. "You can show yourself now. They're out of sight."

Hermione undid the disillusionment charm and revealed herself, biting her lip in shame. "I just wasn't ready," Hermione murmured.

"I know," Regulus said quietly. "But you can't hide from her forever. She's clearly very eager to meet you. I mean, you can't blame her, especially when another version of herself is the savior of the magical world," he teased, leaning against the post.

"She's too young to know. It's better if it remains a secret."

"You should tell her. One day."

"I will," she promised. "When the time is right." Hermione watched as a younger group of kids wandered through, accompanied by a blonde witch Hermione and Regulus knew well. "Narcissa!" Hermione and Regulus greeted her warmly as she gave a surprised, but warm smile to them.

"Lauren, can you take them for a moment?" she asked the other chaperone who nodded and led the children over to the viewpoint Draco and his friends had just vacated.

"Caelum is getting so big," Hermione commented, glancing at the five-year-old with wavy golden hair who kept glancing back anxiously at his mother.

Narcissa gave an encouraging wave and he turned back to look at the Flaming House Finches.

"He is. And he looks just like his father," Regulus commented with a smile.

"Yes, he does, doesn't he?" Narcissa smiled joyfully.

"Are he and Draco getting along?"

"As well as brothers do," she shrugged.

"Draco wants to be a chaser like his father," Regulus told her with a kind smile.

Narcissa's face became a stony mask for a moment, pinching her eyes shut before blinking rapidly and nodding. "Of course he does. He loves his father a great deal. Evan dotes on him. He's been a good father to him all his life."

At that moment a cry broke out and the class looked up to see one of the young boys stuck in a tree. Regulus pulled his wand from his pocket and ran to join the hubbub and help the boy down.

Narcissa took a nervous step forward, but Hermione put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, he'll be fine. Regulus can manage alone." And a second later the boy was safely back on the ground as the other chaperone scolded him. "You know…" Hermione began cautiously, keeping her voice quiet so as not to be overheard. "It's okay to miss Lucius."

Narcissa raised an eye at her. After all these years, she could tell Narcissa still felt guilty for missing her husband. "I do miss him," Narcissa admitted, surprising even herself. "I can't help but wonder what things would have been like if he were still here. And it makes me feel wretched because I love Evan. I do. But…"

"You can't help but wonder what might have been?" Hermione offered, giving her friend a kind smile.

"Yes. Does that make me a terrible person?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. It's only natural to wonder. And Lucius will always be a part of Draco."

Narcissa pursed her lips tightly and nodded. "I wish he had lived long enough for Draco to remember him. Evan is the only father Draco has ever known. I don't mean to sound ungrateful. But sometimes I wonder if it was wrong to change his name. It feels like I tried to erase Lucius completely from his son's life. But that's not what I wanted at all. I just wanted the best for him."

Hermione smiled. "There's nothing wrong with it. He can always change his name when he's older. But I think he's quite happy as a Rosier."

Narcissa looked a bit relieved to hear this. She glanced nervously at Hermione for a moment, remembering that Evan and Hermione were together for a time. Hermione had never revealed that she was always more in love with Regulus than she ever had been with Evan or Rab. Evan and Narcissa had gotten together a couple of months after they had ended their courtship too, finding comfort in one another in their grief. They had married a year later. It had created some awkwardness around them all at first, but they eventually moved on and tensions settled. "Evan is a good father to Draco," Narcissa commented. "I was worried when we had Caelum that he would be neglectful towards Draco, but he's been a wonderful father and husband." Narcissa's cheeks reddened a bit and she glanced at Hermione to make sure she hadn't said anything to offend her.

"Don't worry. I'm glad you're both happy. Really. You both have such a wonderful relationship and such wonderful boys."

Narcissa leaned in and pressed a hand to her stomach. "I think the next one's going to be a girl," she whispered.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Really? Another baby? Oh, that's amazing! That's wonderful! Have you told Evan yet?"

Narcissa nodded and stepped closer, keeping her voice low. "He knows. He's been helping me tend to the new tree next to Caelum's."

Hermione beamed at her. "Can you keep a secret?" Hermione whispered conspiratorially.

Narcissa nodded and Hermione put her hands on her stomach too.

"No!" Narcissa said, clapping a hand to her mouth to muffle her voice.

"Yes," Hermione said, grinning.

"Have you told Regulus yet?"

Hermione shook her head, glancing at Regulus as he helped the little boy mend a tear in his jacket.

"Oh, he's going to be so excited! And he'll be a wonderful father," Narcissa assured her.

Hermione smiled too, glancing back at him. "He will."

"Is this your first?" Narcissa asked, a peculiar note cropping up as she studied Hermione's response.

"Yes?" Hermione said questioningly at the bizarre way in which she asked.

Narcissa raised a penciled eyebrow. "Hm. Interesting. You know, Draco has recently become friends with a new addition to the school. A clever little girl with bushy brown hair who reminds me an awful lot of you. She even shares the same first name. Hermione Granger."

Hermione froze. Her own name sounded so foreign to her now after all these years of being Hermione Krum and now Hermione Black.

Narcissa smirked knowingly at Hermione's pale expression. "So if this little girl who is the spitting image of you is not your child and shares the same name as you, I can't help but wonder…"

Hermione clamped her mouth shut, giving Narcissa a look that begged her not to say another word.

Narcissa's smile widened.

Regulus began to walk back over to them and Narcissa put a finger to her lips to show that she wouldn't say anything. "We'll talk later?" Narcissa said with a wave and a smirk.

They parted ways as Narcissa returned to keep an eye on the children, and Hermione led Regulus up to one of the deserted platforms and took his hand in hers. She couldn't wait any longer. She had brought him here to tell him. Gathering her courage, she looked into his eyes and smiled up at him. Warmth spread through her fingertips as he smiled back at her. "There's something I want to tell you," Hermione said, glancing down nervously at her fingers and taking a steadying breath.

"What is it?" he asked, a worried crease forming between his brows.

Her heart pounded against her ribs and she felt butterflies in her stomach as she looked into his brilliant silver eyes. "I'm pregnant," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Regulus's face went through several different expressions in quick succession. At first he was stunned, then terrified, then elated, then ecstatic as he hugged her and spun her around. He set her down gently, unable to keep the smile from his face. "Really?" he asked excitedly, getting a bit choked up as at the wave of emotion rising up within him that he hadn't expected.

"Really."

He took a step back in disbelief, running his hands through his hair.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked nervously as he got a distant, far off look in his eyes, swallowing hard.

He bobbed his head, shaking himself out of his brief stupor as he grinned down at her. Her shoulders sank in relief at his smile.

"You're not afraid or anything?"

"Completely terrified, actually," he said in the same upbeat tone, his voice still a little choked up. "But so happy too," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead and beaming at her. "We're going to have a baby."

"We are. You're going to be a father."

He could hardly contain the joy on his face. "I'm going to be a father." Tears pricked at his eyes and he wiped them on the back of his sleeve as Hermione smiled at him.

Taking his cheeks in her hands, she gently lowered his face to kiss him, sweet and slow. When they parted he rested his forehead on hers, brushing her cheek with the pad of his thumb as the other hovered over her stomach. Placing her hand over his, she guided it the rest of the way to the ever so slight bump. The warmth from his hand made her smile grow.

They had come so far to get to this moment. Falling through time and space had seemed like a curse, but now she stood with the man she loved more than anyone else as they entered into a new chapter in their lives. She had fought hard to become who she was now. When the darkness had threatened to drown her, she had forged her own light. The scars of her past were nothing more than reminders of the battles she had survived. Her nightmares did not plague her the way they once had when her wounds were raw. She had love and hope and the stubborn willfulness to accomplish what she set out to do. The future she had helped create was already brighter. Smiling to herself, she wondered if perhaps fate in all its mystery had given her the greatest gift of all.

* * *

A/N - Thank you all for reading through to the very end. It has been a pleasure to read all the wonderful reviews. They encourage me to keep writing and that means the world to me. I hope you have enjoyed this piece as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I was always one of those people that was shocked to see others write novel-length fanfiction pieces, but sure enough, I had a story I wanted to share so low and behold!

If you have enjoyed reading this piece I would appreciate a positive review and favorite on the story. It let's me know that you've enjoyed reading this work.

Thank you all again for your time and dedication. You, as readers, breath life into the story. And for that I am incredibly grateful.

\- Queen of the Northern Lights


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